


Bidh gaol agam ort fad mo bheatha, thusa's gun duine eile

by EndoratheWitch



Category: Strange Magic (2015)
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/M, Falling In Love, My Big Fat Greek Wedding AU, Some Cursing, Weddings, families, lots of new characters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-27
Updated: 2018-08-26
Packaged: 2018-09-02 13:12:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 26,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8668903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EndoratheWitch/pseuds/EndoratheWitch
Summary: Bog works in his family's restaurant, condemned to a life he doesn't really want...





	1. How fair art thou, my bonnie lass

Bog stared out the window watching the rain coming down. It wasn't a light rain, but a hard, punishing rain. It was a lovely grey day, the rain heavy, the cold air, the sky covered in heavy clouds. It made the sky look like a solid mass. The weather was a perfect reflection of his life. Bog sighed. For a moment his reflection stared back at him with glasses perched on a long sharp nose. His dark hair looked as if he had just woken up; it curled in every direction as if it had a will and mind of its own. He was tall, taller than everyone he knew and made up of sharp angles with a sharper tongue. His long pointed chin was unshaven and his clothing was the color of the rain water that lay trapped in potholes throughout the city, dark and colorless. 

His only redeeming feature, he thought to himself, might be his eyes. They were the only color in his face, eyes that were the bluest of blue. His mother had once described them as a fragment of the sky that had been captured in his eyes. 

He was certain that he was no one's idea of a perfect catch, though his mother kept insisting he should find a nice Scottish girl and get married. Bog let out a sigh of the long suffering. He was thirty years old, alone, and worked at his family's restaurant. He had no life beyond these walls. He had closed last night and here he was again, opening because what else was he going to do? He had no dates, no plans...his life was an endless cycle of work and home. 

Bog sighed again and walked away from the window just before he saw his aunt's car pull up. Her husband Aibeart was already eating breakfast with Bog's father. Bog knew exactly what was about to happen....the “talk” about Bog....their important talks were always about him anymore...Bog's shoulders slumped as he walked over to make sure the tea was brewing along with the coffee. 

* 

Growing up, Bog had been weird. He had always stood out. With his thick Scottish accent (which had only mellowed to something less noticeable in the last several years), he was tall, gangly, with features like a knife. Bog resembled more of a stick bug than a man—at least that was what he thought. 

Going to school had been torture. The only thing that had made it slightly bearable was his quick and scathing wit. That wit of his had helped keep the bullies at bay most of the time, but it had also helped Bog build a wall around himself, a wall that protected him from getting hurt...though it had also prevented him from making friends. Bog could cut someone down to size with his tongue and his fists, which landed him in detention more times than he cared to remember. By the time he had graduated from school, Bog had had his nose broken at least twice, several bloody lips along with bruised and swollen knuckles and once a broken arm, but no one had managed to hurt him deeper than that. Until her...she had taught Bog that he was unlovable, too hideous to love. He had had his heart shattered and he would never allow it to happen again. 

The other part of his young life that had made school difficult was that Bog and his brothers had a private tutor after school. Their teacher, one Mr. Hamish Trotter, taught them not just about their Scottish history, but his most important task was to teach the boys to speak fluent Scottish Gaelic. Fucking perfect... 

* 

Sitting in a booth at the back of the restaurant was Bog's father. Bog's father Boyd was a tall man, sharp corner like Bog, but where Bog was quiet, Boyd was loud and endlessly proud of their Scottish background. The man could drink acholol like it was water and he could swear like no one Bog had ever heard. Boyd made sure anyone who met them knew they were Scottish; there was no passing for anything other than what you were in this family. Bog would never forget all the times his father would show up for parent-teacher conferences wearing his kilt. Their house had not just an American flag flying from a flag pole his father had put in the front yard, but also a Scottish flag and a clan flag. Every summer the whole King clan went to the local Highland games. Everyone, every single member of the family was expected to participate in the events. The Highland games didn't bother Bog that much, but when the local news would come and interview his father...everyone in town knew Boyd King, which meant everyone had seen his sons, William, Bruce and Bogart King on the news. Oh joy. 

* 

Where Bog's father was tall and lean, Bog's mother, Griselda was a tiny red-headed woman with a voice that could easily have woken the dead. She was loud, loving and had a need to feed anyone and everyone. No problem couldn't be solved with a plate of haggis, neeps and tatties. Any cold could to fought off with a small shot of whiskey too. Bog would never forget when his mother had been called to the school because there was alcohol on her son's breath...the lecture she had given the principle on using whiskey to fight a cold...Bog had never lived it down. 

Griselda's dream was to see all her boys married with loads of children. She could not imagine a happier existence for any of them. Which was why Bog's mother insisted on trying to set him up with any young woman with a Scottish surname she encountered. 

Bog's older brothers had done exactly as their mother had hoped. William Wallace....or Willy as Bog liked to call him...(calling him Willy irritated the hell out of his brother and gave Bog something in his life to enjoy)...William had done exactly what was expected of him—he had gotten married to a young woman with the Scottish surname of Keir. Willy had three children, all boys. They were a loud happy Scottish family. Their parents were so proud. 

Bog's other eldest brother, Bruce, worked at the restaurant too. He was engaged to be married to a young woman with the last name of Mac An Baird and planning Bruce's wedding was the highlight of their mother's existence at the moment. 

* 

Bog was knocked from his thoughts when his Aunt Plum came barreling in bringing with her a rush of cold air. Griselda came out from the kitchen with a bright smile. Her name was actually Aura, but Plum had been her nickname since she was little and it was what everyone called her. 

“Plum!” Griselda wrapped her arms around her sister. “Come in, have something to eat before you go to work.” 

Plum frowned. “Have you seen Aibeart?” 

Griselda pointed to a booth in the back. “He's eating breakfast with Boyd.” 

While she talked, Bog's mother had poured her sister a cup of coffee. 

Plum picked it up with a smile of thanks and hurried over to where her husband and brother-in-law were deep in discussion. 

Bog's father sat at the table with his elbow resting in a bowl of malt whiskey. For some reason Boyd felt that whiskey was a cure all for everything, not just congestion. Any ache or rash could be cured with whiskey. Bog could never figure it out. All he knew was that you never told his father you had a rash...he would chase you down until you let him spray it with whiskey that he kept in an old squirt bottle just for such occasions. The whole family smelled like drunks. 

The two elder King men were eating a traditional Scottish breakfast of yogurt, toast, tea, bangers, tomatoes topped with melted cheese, baked beans, eggs, sauteed mushrooms, oatmeal, bacon and black pudding. 

Plum walked over and immediately sat down, squeezing herself in next to her husband. The two men paused in their conversation. Plum turned on her husband. 

“Why didn't you wait for me this morning?” 

Aibeart, whose accent rolled off his words, frowned. “Sorry dear, but Boyd needed to talk...” He dropped his voice. “About Bog.” 

Plum leaned closer, snatching a banger off her husband's plate and taking a bite. 

“What about Bog?” she asked around a mouthful. 

Boyd sighed. “I offered to send him to Scotland...to find himself a good Scottish girl to settle down with, but he won't go!” 

Boyd's accent was still thick despite the years living in the States. 

Plum and Aibeart, with the same shocked tone muttered, “He won't go?” 

Boyd threw his hands up. “He won't go! I donna think he even really wants to get married anymore.” 

Plum sighed. “Well, Anabel really broke his heart. I'm not surprised he gave up,” she said with a sad shake of her head. “She hurt that boy badly, the cunt...” 

Boyd sighed. “That boy...I swear...one woman should not have...” 

Aibeart reached out and patted his brother-in-law's arm with a smile. “The boy has a poet's heart Boyd. On the bright side, at least he will always be here to run the restaurant for you.” 

Bruce came sauntering over from the kitchen carrying a plate of bangers with him. 

“Morning everyone.” He sat down next to his dad. “You guys talking about Bog again?” 

Boyd shrugged. 

Bruce set the plate down and picked up a sausage. “If he doesn't want to go to Scotland, don't make him.” 

“The boy needs a good woman!” Their father groaned while Plum and Aibeart nodded. Bruce sighed. He kinda felt sorry for his baby brother. 

Boyd made eye-contact with everyone at the table and hissed. “He actually said he doesn't want to get married! That he doesn't believe in love! Can you believe that?” 

Plum sighed sadly while Bruce rolled his eyes and Aibeart shoved a fork full of beans into his mouth. 

“Boyd, Anabel broke his heart. Maybe he just isn't ready?” Plum muttered as she twirled her banger in the yellow of one of Aibeart's eggs. 

“It's been two years! He needs to move on,” Boyd growled spooning some yogurt into his oatmeal. 

Bruce decided to stay out of the conversation and focus on his breakfast. 

* 

Bog sighed as he walked past their booth. They had stopped talking as soon as he was in earshot. He knew exactly what they were talking about, the same topic of conversation for the last two years...him. 

He hated his life. He knew his family loved him and only wanted the best for him, but he couldn't seem to convince them that the best was what he had right now. 

Nothing...that was the best he could ever hope for... 

He didn't believe in love and he most certainly didn't believe in happily ever afters. He knew that life wasn't all about having someone in it to love and be loved in return...but still... 

Those things, love...family...happened to people like his brothers. They were tall, well-built and handsome. Both of them had had women throwing themselves at the two older King boys for as long as Bog could remember. With their romance book-cover good looks, their slight accents and outgoing personalities, the women, and men, had flocked to the two older King brothers like bees to honey. 

Then there was Bog. 

Bog sighed again. He didn't want to end up working at the family restaurant forever...not that the restaurant wasn't great...but he had plans...it just so happened that none of those plans included love. Bog stepped back behind the counter to pour himself a cup of tea. He had just pulled the pamphlet out of his back pocket, where he flattened it across the counter when his two cousins came in, Stuff and Thang. 

Actually their names were Siubhan and Tioboid, but Bog had called them Stuff and Thang since they were little...no real reason except it had irritated them both. They had two volumes, loud and louder. 

Even Thang had a girl, whose name was Shannon. Where Thang was an adorable dork, short, large glasses and a love of tartan sweater vests, Shannon, his girlfriend, resembled a super model. She was tall, thin with striking white blonde hair (clearly not natural). But the best part about her was that she was completely in love with Thang. 

Stuff had a girlfriend too. Stuff, unlike her brother, was tall, heavily muscled and could toss a caber better than any man in the King clan. Her girlfriend was a petite flower by the name of Jane, but if anyone thought Stuff would be the overpowering personality in a relationship, they had never met Jane. 

But today the two King cousins were alone as they shoved through the restaurant door yelling at each other. Stuff huffed at Thang. “You were supposed to go open the travel agency, not me you Bampot!” 

Plum turned around and yelled. “Siubhan! Language!” 

Thang frowned. “Well, I couldn't get there in time, so that's why you had to do it.” 

“You couldn't get there in time because you spent the time at Shannon's house and she lives across town!” Stuff snarled. 

The two of them continued to yell back and forth while they made their way to the back booth. 

Bog tuned out the argument. They came in every morning yelling about something or other. It happened so often that no one in the family ever reacted...except Aunt Plum when they started cursing at each other. 

Bog did his best to ignore everyone out and started reading over the pamphlet again. It was a pamphlet about classes at the community college, specifically, computer courses. Bog had been thinking about taking some classes, learning everything he could about computers. He thought that maybe he could get out of the restaurant...do something else. His Aunt Plum ran a travel agency, which was a lot quieter than the restaurant and most importantly it was something completely different...they used computers all the time. He could start there and then maybe who knew?! 

He frowned as he stared down at the pamphlet. His father would hate it. He wanted Bog to marry and carry on with the restaurant...the family business. Bog sighed as he folded the paper and shoved it back into his pocket just as William and his clan of boys came barreling through the door. 

“Morning everyone!!” William hollered. 

The boys saw Bog, their favorite uncle, and zeroed in on him like guided missiles. The boys, Ewan, Angus and Fergus, instantly started to shout. “UNCLE BOG, UNCLE BOG!!” Bog laughed as he walked around the corner with his arms out, self-doubt and depressing thoughts fading for the moment. “Come on ye rug rats!” 

The boys ploughed into their uncle. They resembled a group of bears the way they nearly knocked him over, instantly climbing all over him. They boys were ages five, seven, and ten. They had inherited their grandmother's red hair and freckles as they climbed all over Bog who stood up, one around his neck the other two under his arms like barrels. 

“Okay Willy, I'm going to go put these animals in the freezer.” Bog started to move slowly turning around walking like he was a giant back toward the kitchen. 

“Ahh!! Uncle Bog no!!” The boys laughed and yelled in chorus. 

William sighed rolling his eyes. “Bog, don't call me Willy!” 

Bog made a face. “As soon as you stop calling me Bog, you got it Willy.” 

The boys laughed as Bog carried them off to the freezer. 

William walked over to where his father, brother, cousins and aunt and uncle sat eating breakfast. He leaned on the back of the booth over his Aunt Plum and Uncle Aibeart. 

Stuff and Thang had pulled up a couple of chairs while the food was being passed around. 

“Hey guys, what's up?” William reached between his aunt and uncle to snag some bacon. 

Bruce grinned. “Complaining about Bog again.” 

William frowned. “What'd he do now?” 

Their father sighed. “He won't go to Scotland.” 

“Oh.” William glanced back toward the kitchen where Bog and his boys had run off. William knew Bog was probably sneaking them some Scottish tablets so the boys would be on a sugar high when he took them out. William could just ring his baby brother's neck sometimes! 

Bruce nodded with a grin. “He told Dad he doesn't want to get married.” 

William turned back around and cursed. “Hope Mom didn't hear that.” 

Plum gasped. “Does Griselda know?” 

Boyd made a hand gesture nearly knocking over his spray bottle of whiskey. 

Thang was cutting up his eggs. “Well, don't make him go,” he said without looking up. 

Stuff smacked her brother in the shoulder causing Thang's head to shoot up. “What?” 

Boyd sighed, sounding a lot like his youngest son. “I just donna know what I'm going to do with that boy.” 

That was about the time his wife came over. She had been working in the kitchen, but now she was shooing Bruce over, squishing the two men into the booth as she sat down with her own plate of food. 

“So what is so important you had to call Aibeart over here before Plum?” 

Everyone became quiet. Griselda narrowed her eyes giving them all “the look” and hissed. 

“What did Bog do?” 

* 

Bog sighed again...for the third—or was it the fourth—time in the last hour? He sighed a lot around his family. He loved them, but sometimes they were a lot to take, even for him. 

It was afternoon now; the restaurant was open and doing a brisk business. Bog was busy handing out menus. The day had carried on as it usually did, always the same. He shoved his glasses up his nose, going to fetch the drinks for this table, thinking how his life was never going to change. Who was he kidding? He would always work here and always be alone. It was just how it worked. 

He turned around holding a tray of glasses when he glanced out the window that ran the length of the restaurant. At that moment he saw the most beautiful woman dash by. She was holding a large messenger bag over her head to shield against the rain as she dashed to the restaurant door. 

She was short...Bog would guess maybe five feet three, with short brown hair. She was rather petite, somehow managing to look delicate and strong at the same time. Bog stood there, his glasses having slid down to perch at the end of his nose, his mouth slightly open, watching her in stunned silence as she stepped inside the restaurant. She glanced around for a moment then saw someone she knew and walked over to their table. Bog's eyes followed her. Her smile was incredible as she jogged over to a table where an equally petite blonde woman sat. 

* 

The blonde glanced up and smiled when her sister threw herself into the seat across from her. 

“Hey, I was beginning to think you weren't coming.” 

“Sorry sis. I got hung up with one of my students.” Marianne grinned while she set her bag on the floor. Dawn had already ordered something that smelled delicious. 

“What is that?” Marianne reached over and snagged something from her little sisters plate, putting it in her mouth without waiting for an answer. Marianne groaned with happiness at the taste on her tongue. 

Dawn laughed. “Smoked Salmon., you should order something instead of eating off my plate you know.” 

Marianne wrinkled her nose. “Fine.” 

She looked up to call the waiter over when she saw him standing there waiting by their table already. He was exceptionally tall; Marianne thought she might get a stiff neck looking up at him. He smiled. Not a big smile, but it was nice, really nice. His lips, which she thought were very sensual, were pressed into a smile that looked as if he was trying to keep something from spilling out. As if this man contained a spirit so wild that he had to keep his lips pressed together to prevent it from exploding out of him. 

The other thing that Marianne noticed about him was that his cheeks were bright red and he was holding a teapot. As she stared at him, she saw that behind his glasses he had a pair of the most incredible blue colored eyes. 

Marianne flushed and then smiled. “Can I get a menu?” 

“Oh, aye, yes, sure.” He turned a little stiff and walked over to grab a menu. Marianne grinned. He had a slight Scottish accent. 

Dawn grinned, watching her sister. “So did you run into Roland?” 

Marianne's head snapped around so quickly that Dawn wouldn't be surprised if Marianne got whiplash. “What about Roland?” Marianne hissed. 

“Oh nothing. He stopped by the office looking for you.” Dawn smiled as she took a sip of her soda. 

Marianne put a hand to her forehead. “Great. What the hell does he want?” 

“Probably what he has always wanted, to win you back.” Dawn smiled as she took a bite of her salmon. 

Marianne made a gagging noise just as the waiter came back with the menu. 

* 

Bog found himself mesmerized. It felt as if he were walking in a fog. She was even more beautiful up close, big brown eyes, pert little nose...and her mouth...perfect. 

He was having trouble seeing anything beyond her. She reminded him of a poem... 

“And with those eyes, you could have set the sky on fire but you chose to burn me instead...” 

* 

Marianne glanced at the menu and then grinned as she glanced up at the waiter. “I think I will have the Gratin of smoked haddock and crab with chilli and cheese.” She handed the menu to him. “Oh, and could you add some tea?” 

The waiter nodded. “Aye.” He leaned across the table to where a tea cup sat, turning it over to pour her some tea from the teapot he was still carrying around. Marianne swallowed. He smiled. Oh good, she thought, I'm being turned on by the waiter. But her thoughts drifted as did her eyes, as he leaned over revealing a partially exposed neck. Marianne thought briefly about how she wanted to lick and bite his neck.. it was a very neck neck. Marianne blinked. Whoa that thought came out of nowhere, wanting to bite her waiter? 

Dawn perked up. “Oh could I have some more tea too?” 

The waiter didn't react. It was as if he didn't see her or hear her. Dawn blinked, then grinned in amusement as she noticed that he clearly only had eyes for his sister. 

Marianne smiled up at him as he stood there unmoving for a moment. Then he blushed. “Sorry. Ye'd think I was your own private Highlander guard.” 

Marianne giggled. The waiter's eyes widened and he stiffly turned around and left. 

Dawn grinned. “I think he likes you.” 

Marianne blushed. “Ppfftt...” Though her eyes followed him as he hurried away to put in her order. She smiled catching her bottom lip between her teeth. 

* 

The sisters spoke while they ate their lunch. They both worked at the same community college as instructors. Dawn worked in the music department with her husband Sunny and Marianne worked in the history department as a teacher...though she also taught fencing on the side. Dawn decided while they ate their lunch, that this was a perfect time for her to point out all the men that she had set her sister up with that had failed to turn into anything. 

Dawn sighed. “It's like you're not even trying to met someone, Marianne.” 

Marianne stuffed her mouth to prevent herself from saying something nasty about each and every guy that Dawn had tried to get her to go out with...but her eyes wandered over to the waiter. She smiled. He was really nice to look at...the way he kept shoving his glasses up his long pointed nose, and the way he kept stumbling about as if he was having trouble tripping over his own feet. The way his shirt was slightly untucked from those tight fitting jeans....just asking for someone to slide their hands in...It was adorable. 

Dawn glanced from her sister to the waiter. Well at least she knew her sister's lust meter was still operational, because that was pure lust on her sister's face...A small smile crossed Dawn's lips as she wondered if the waiter was single.... 

When the sisters stopped at the register to pay the bill, Marianne didn't have time to admire the waiter since she had to get to class. She had glanced at her phone and made a strangled noise. 

“Crap! I'm going to be late!” 

Marianne grabbed her sister around the neck, giving her a huge kiss on the cheek just before she ran back to the table to throw some money down for a tip, then she threw more money at her sister before she rushed out on her way to her next class. 

Bog had dropped down behind the register when she raced past, watching her leave. He was too tall to really hide there, but he stayed like that until she had left. His eyes slowly rotated to the register and then up when he realized someone was standing there waiting. The blonde who had eaten with the beautiful woman who had just rushed out stood there watching him with a slight grin on her lips. Bog stood up gradually, glancing out the window once to watch the other woman disappear into the rain. 

The tiny blonde smiled and cleared her throat to get his attention. “I'd like to pay my bill.” 

Bog stuttered. “Ah yes...of course.” 

After the blonde had left. Bog sighed for probably the millionth time that day. What he wouldn't do for a woman like that to just talk to him...


	2. So deep in luve am I

The next day was much like all day before—old, dreary, and wet. Though the chill in the air was a bit harsher than the day before, which meant there would be snow or maybe ice. Bog stood at the window looking out, his glasses set on the tip of his nose and sipping a cup of coffee. He wore a pair of grey fingerless gloves and a thick black and grey striped scarf around his neck along with a heavy grey fisherman's sweater. 

Griselda was watching him, letting the rest of the family talk about whatever the current topic of debate was, while she focused on her youngest son. Bog was unhappy. No, it was more than simply unhappy, he was miserable, she realized. She pressed her lips together. Something in Bog's life needed to change and soon. She could see that she was going to lose that bright happy boy he used to be when he was younger. 

Things had gotten worse after Bog's break-up...what was it now, two—no, three years ago. That woman had torn her boy's heart out and made him feel worthless. Bog still hadn't recovered and Griselda was beginning to think he never would unless something in his life changed significantly. 

At that moment, Griselda made a decision. She knew Bog had been thinking about taking some computer classes. She had seen him looking at the college pamphlet (a mother saw everything). That was all fine and good, but she remembered a boy growing up who had also loved music. She smiled knowing exactly what Bog needed to help break him out of his rut and perhaps make him start liking himself again. 

* 

Later that afternoon when Plum came by for lunch, Griselda pulled her into the back of the restaurant. “I need to ask you a favor.” 

Plum pouted. “Gee, couldn't you have let me get my coffee at least? Tea?” 

Griselda put her hands on Plum's shoulders. “I need you to hire Bog.” 

Plum frowned. “Hire him? But he works here?” 

Griselda sighed. “You've seen him. He needs a change Plum, needs to forge his own way. Being part of the restaurant, I think its drowning him. I'm going to get him to take those computer classes he is always mentioning, get him back into music maybe...get him out of the restaurant. He needs a change.” 

Plum shrugged. “Alright, no problem. Anything to help.” 

Plum gave Griselda a smile. “He can start Monday.” 

Griselda hugged her sister-in-law. “Thank you Plum.” 

“You sure he wants to come work with me?” Plum questioned. 

“I'm sure he will jump at the chance to get out of here.” Griselda gave Plum another squeeze. 

* 

That evening Bog was in his apartment (located over the family's detached garage. After the break-up with Anabel, Bog hadn't been able to face going back to his apartment. There was too much of Anabel in it, too many reminders of how she had hurt him. His mother had offered him the apartment after their last tenant had moved out and Bog had taken it.) He was lying on his couch, the TV on mostly for the sound as he read a book. He could hear the icy rain outside hitting the window with a delicate tinkling sound when there was a knock at his door. Bog frowned pushing his glasses up his nose. Who on earth? He thought to himself standing up and walking over in his socked feet to answer the door. 

Standing there with a covered dish was Bog's mother. 

“Mam?” 

“Can I come in dear?” Griselda asked then held up the dish. “I made some Scotch pie.” 

Bog smiled. “Sure Mam, come on in.” 

She came in walking over to the small, round dinner table that Bog had in his 'kitchen.' The apartment was a studio style apartment, with everything right there in the open. Perfect for a single person. Griselda set the pie down pulling off the foil. 

“Want some tea, coffee, a beer?” Bog asked as he came over and pulled a couple of plates out of one of the cabinets along with a knives and forks from a drawer. 

“Oh, some tea sounds lovely dear.” Griselda took the plates and silverware and put a piece of pie on each plate. Bog put the kettle on and pulled out the box of tea bags and a couple of mismatched mugs. 

“So, what do you want to talk about?” Bog asked as he set about making tea. 

“Maybe I just wanted to spend some time with my baby boy?” Griselda grinned, but Bog gave her a significant look. 

“Alright, fine. I want you to take those courses at the college AND I want you to also get back into your music, back to playing piano like you used to.” His mother pulled her chair out and sat, crossing her arms over her chest. “I also talked to your Aunt Plum and she says you can start work at the travel agency on Monday. If you want.” 

Bog blinked in shock. “What?” 

Griselda pressed her lips together. “I'm not blind Bog. I can see how unhappy you are.” His mother's face softened as she held his gaze and said, “You need a change.” 

Bog sighed. “Mam, I can't really afford to pay for classes right now. It's just...you know...” 

“You're Da and I will pay for them.” Griselda smiled reaching for her utensils to cut into her pie. 

“What? But...you talk to Da about this?” Bog stood by the stove waiting for the water to boil giving his mother an incredulous look. 

“Not yet. But don't worry—just sign up for those classes. Including piano.” Griselda put a bite of the pie in her mouth giving him a poignant look. 

Bog frowned turning to take the water off the burner and pour it into the waiting mugs. He walked over with the two steaming mugs of tea, setting them down before getting the cream and sugar. He set them on the table and took the seat opposite his mother. His mother smiled reaching across the table to pat his hand. 

“Please honey, just register and take the job at your aunt's. You need a change.” 

Bog sighed looking at his mother, but a smile crept into his expression. He pushed his glasses up his nose with his middle finger—a habit he had since getting glasses. He looked shy and young, which broke Griselda heart for him. 

Bog's voice was quiet when he said. “Alright, if yer sure.” 

She reached across the table again and squeezed his hand. “Honey, you need this, you need to make a change and if this helps set you on that path then it's the least your father and I can do.” 

Bog sighed. “I'm sorry Mam—that I'm such a failure.” Bog leaned on his elbows pressing the palms of his hands into his eyes pushing his glasses up to his forehead. 

“Bog, you are not a failure! Don't you ever say that! You're my boy. You just need a chance to be the person you can be.” She pushed back her chair walking around to wrap her arms around Bog. 

* 

That night Griselda snuggled up to her husband as he read a book in bed. Boyd glanced down at his wife his eyes narrowing with suspicion.. “What do you want woman?” 

He said it playfully, but with just of hint of the suspicion he was feeling. 

She smiled. “I want you to pay to send Bog to the college to take some classes.” 

Boyd frowned. “Why?” 

“Because he needs it. He needs it. He needs to do something new with his life.” Griselda kissed her husband's shoulder. 

“He should find a nice Scottish girl and get married then have a lot of kids.” Boyd looked back down at his book. 

“You do know it's the twenty-first century Boyd right?” Griselda sat up snatching the book out of her husband's hands, ignoring his surprised expression. “Now listen. Bog needs a boost to his self confidence and this is what he needs. He can take some classes, work with his aunt...” 

Boyd gasped. “With Plum? Why?” 

“Because he needs a change Boyd! That's why. Now you listen. We pay for the classes, get him out there in the world again. Do it for your son.” Griselda glared at her husband who sighed. 

“I hate the fact that you are always right, you know that Gris.” Her husband pulled her close for a bear hug. 

She laughed snuggling against him. “You love it.” 

Boyd chuckled. “Yeah, I do.” He rolled over on top of her causing her to squeal like she was a young woman again. “Boyd you doaty bampot!” 

Boyd purred. “Aye and ye love it lass!” 

They were both laughing pulling the sheets over their heads. 

* 

Several weeks passed. Bog was taking classes at the college, showing a real knack for understanding computers, excelling in his classes which boosted his confidence. He was also back to playing the piano. The piano lessons he was taking had not only brought back the joy of playing for him, but had also helped him regain the skills he had thought lost. 

Working at his aunt's business had—as Griselda had surmised—also helped Bog's confidence. He was actually good with people, friendly, helpful, especially now that he was feeling better about himself. He began to take more pride in his appearance, changing the way he dressed, brushing his hair back from his face (though he still thought he was as ugly as the day was long, but now he didn't care quite as much) but the one thing that everyone in his family noticed most, was that Bog had started smiling again. He was still shy, still refused to be set up on any dates by his family, but his smile came more easily to his face than it had in the recent past. 

* 

This evening was still cool, but spring was not far away. The evening sky was chilled, but clear, the stars bright in the sky and the inside of the King family restaurant was warm and inviting. The place was packed with diners while soft piano music enhanced the relaxed atmosphere. 

Bog sat in the restaurant playing the piano. His father had purchased a piano, an upright (Bog jokingly had said made him feel like he was playing in an old western tavern), and had it delivered to the restaurant just for his youngest son to play. 

Bog sat at the piano, playing gently, his eyes closed. The soft sounds of “The Skyboat Song” drifted through the restaurant. It was a slow, nice piece of music, perfect for people to eat dinner and have conversation by while the room was filled with soft music. 

Tonight Bog had his hair slicked back from his face, wearing a pair of jeans and a button down dark blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up, the color making his eyes pop behind his glasses. His glasses were still perched on the end of his long nose as he swayed softly to the music he was playing, his long fingers moving gracefully over the keys. Griselda smiled watching her son. Over the last few weeks Bog's confidence grew; he smiled more and Plum had talked about how confident he was at work, how he had redone her internet site's web page, which added to them attracting more clients. Griselda sighed happily. 

* 

That evening Marianne walked into the restaurant with her sister. They hadn't been here in weeks though Marianne had been wanting to come back. It was just that life, work and a million other little things had kept getting in her way. She had managed to stop by for lunch only once in the last several weeks, but that tall, thin waiter with the glasses and the beautiful eyes hadn't been working. 

But tonight, she stopped in her tracks when she saw him through the window of the restaurant, and he was playing piano! She had been walking by with her sister when she saw him. Marianne had grabbed her sister by the arm and yanked her through the door before Dawn had had a chance to figure out what was happening. Marianne stared. He looked the same, yet also different, and the same immediate attraction she had felt the one time she had seen him was there. She was still staring when an older man stepped over to them with a slight smile. 

“Table for two?” 

Dawn glanced at her sister who was still staring at the piano guy. 

Dawn grinned at her sister answering for them. “Yes, table for two.” 

They were escorted to a table, but at the last moment an older woman came up stopping the older man. “Why don't you seat them over there Boyd, that table just became free.” 

“Alright?” The man glanced confused at the woman then back at them. “You ladies mind?” 

“Not at all,” Dawn said smiling at her sister. Marianne still had not taken her eyes off the piano guy. The man led them to a table that was just to the right of the piano guy. 

As soon as they were seated the man handed them their menus. “Your waiter will be with you ladies in a moment for your drink orders.” He smiled at them both before walking away. 

* 

Near the register, Griselda was grinning. She had seen the way the brunette had been staring at Bog when she stepped in. It was a lot to hope for, but maybe...which was why Griselda had had Boyd seat the young women closer to Bog. Who knew?! 

* 

Dawn scooted her chair closer to her sister's. “So, is that the guy?” She used her thumb to indicate the man playing the piano. 

Marianne blushed. “Yeah. But he looks a little different.” 

Dawn glanced over at the man that had her sister's attention. “Why don't you talk to him?” 

Marianne blushed. “Ah, nah, he's busy.” 

“Right...” Dawn drew the word out with a glint of humor in her tone. 

“So what do you feel like for dinner?” Dawn reached out and tapped the menu which finally focused Marianne's attention back to her. 

After a few minutes the girls had ordered dinner while the piano player continued into another song. He happened to look around at that time and saw Marianne. His fingers stumbled across the keys hitting a sour note and hitting it hard causing the piano to make a loud sound that caused everyone in the room to wince. He quickly recovered, though his back become stiff. 

Marianne blushed watching him play. 

Bog kept sneaking looks at her over the top of his glasses before quickly looking away again. Marianne kept looking down at her food then up again. Dawn frowned watching her sister, glancing back toward the piano player. 

Griselda was simply smiling. 

* 

When Bog was finished playing the latest piece of music, he got up so fast from the piano that he knocked his stool over. He bent over to pick it up, moving too quickly and overcompensating as he did so which caused him to stumbled forward and into one of the dining room tables. Luckily he only hit it hard enough to cause the silverware and dinnerware to make a loud clinking noise. He righted himself, stared at the brunette in horror, then hurriedly rushed off, disappearing into the back of the restaurant. 

Marianne watched the whole exchange, and then a soft smile formed on her lips. She whispered out loud, but to herself. 

“Oh he is adorable.” 

Dawn perked up. “What was that Marianne?” 

Marianne's eyes snapped back to her sister. “What?” 

“You said something...was it something about the piano player?” Dawn smiled sweetly, but Marianne shook her head, her focus returning to her food. 

“No, no, nothing. 

* 

A few weeks later Bog was at work in his aunt's travel company. It was just after noon, almost lunch time. He was working by himself, the office quiet except for the sound of music playing lightly through the speakers, some light bagpipe music. Right now the tune was Scotland the Brave. His aunt said it was to get the customers in the mood for their trips to Scotland, which were the trips they usually helped people plan. 

He was adsorbed in redesigning the website again with some new things he had learned recently. He was tapping his foot in time to the music that was playing, smiling slightly while his fingers flew across the keyboard. 

* 

Outside Marianne was on her way to grab some lunch, her stomach was grumbling loudly. She grinned when she saw the hot dog stand just up ahead of her. “Yes hot dogs!” she thought to herself. She had just stepped up to the cart when she glanced over to her left. 

There he was...the piano man! 

Marianne's smile blossomed across her face, she found him again! 

* 

The bagpipe music changed to one that Bog had convinced his aunt to put into the mix, a bagpipe version of “We Will Rock You”. Bog was grinning, tapping his foot in time to the music. He stopped his work on the computer and started to move his head and arms to the sound of the music. He was grinning and really getting into the tune, using his wheeled office chair to slide along, when his eyes strayed to the window. The instant he saw her Bog lost his balance on his chair and fell off disappearing behind his desk. 

* 

Outside Marianne gasped when she saw him fall, but that was when her attention was drawn by the hot dog man. “What can I get you ma'am?” 

* 

Bog popped back up, only the top of his head and eyes showing. He watched her while she got her hot dog. She was so pretty. Warm, short, brown hair, golden eyes. She was wearing a pleated skirt that stopped just short of her knees. It was a deep purple, almost the color of a plum and looked lovely against her legs. She had matched it with a white, long sleeved top. She looked so pretty that Bog's heart slammed hard in his chest. She started to turn around, but Bog dropped back down behind his desk. He leaned against the wall and hugged his legs to his chest hiding from her. It was silly, he knew, but...he couldn't seem to help it. 

* 

Marianne frowned. He still hadn't come up yet, which made her wonder if he was hurt. She took a bite of her hot dog walking over to the travel agency window standing on her toes to look inside, trying to see if he was hurt, but he was nowhere to be seen. 

She took another bite of her hotdog narrowing her eyes. Maybe she should go check on him.. What if he hit his head? Broke his leg? 

She stood there for a few more seconds eating her hot dog. Then she turned around walking back to the hot dog stand. 

* 

Bog was still sitting on the floor trying to decide how long he should stay down here when he heard the chime over the door announcing that someone had entered. He cursed to himself. Then, with as much dignity as he could muster, Bog stood up. 

“Hello, welcome to the King...” His voice petered off, the words forgotten. 

Marianne stood there holding a hot dog with a bright smile on her face. 

“Are you hungry?”


	3. Newly Sprung in June

The scent of the hot dog filled the small travel agency office as Bog stared open mouthed and wide eyed at Marianne, his glasses having slipped to the edge of his nose. 

He began to stutter. “Ah, can I…” 

When his stomach growled loudly, Bog’s eyes widened impossibly large and he muttered, 

“Shit.” Bog gasped and immediately clapped both hands over his mouth turning every shade of red known to man. 

Marianne giggled. 

Bog said from behind his hands. “I’m so sorry. Ah, can I help you?” 

Marianne smiled. Bog felt his heart skip a beat; he had never seen a more beautiful smile in all his life. She had perfectly shaped rose bud lips and big brown eyes. For a moment Bog didn’t hear what she actually was saying because he was distracted by the way her lips moved when she spoke. He felt as if the tips of her ears were on fire when he finally focused on her words. 

“I thought you might like a hot dog. Can you take a break?” She blushed prettily, a rosy glow to her cheeks as she held up the hot dog. “They’re really delicious. I’m not ashamed to say I bought myself another one.” She held up the second hot dog in her hand. 

Bog frowned looking confused. “You brought me lunch?” 

She smiled and nodded. “Ah, yeah.” 

He slowly lowered his hands and stared at her. 

“Why?” he asked. 

The man looked so befuddled that Marianne felt her heart give a little twist. He was adorable with his gorgeous blue eyes, and that slightly awkward way he had about him. She liked that a lot. He was tall, slender, elegant in a dorky sort of way, gorgeous lips and--she couldn’t be sure since she hadn’t seen him really smile yet--but she thought he might have crooked teeth. And what she really found amazingly attractive (which she also found a little embarrassing because it was so romance novel typical) was his slight accent!! It was Scottish!! She could have died right on the spot! 

She pulled her focus back from the obvious surface reasons for her attraction and focused back on his question. 

“Well, I thought…” she blushed. “I thought we could talk, get to know one another.” She smiled. 

Bog still looked dumbfounded as he asked with an air of disbelief. “Me? You want to get to know me?” 

She smiled. “Yep.” She motioned with her hand holding his hot dog. “It’s getting cold.” 

Bog blinked at her, a soft smile tugged at his lips. 

* 

Bog had closed the store. Since he was working alone today he could close the place for lunch and bathroom breaks. He and Marianne sat on the floor behind his desk eating hot dogs. She had even brought soda with her, two bottles that she had carried in her purse. Bog tried not to watch her take a bite of her hot dog but she had a really pretty mouth, eyes, face...everything. Every movement she made was graceful... 

She giggled and swallowed her bite. “So--Bog. That is really unusual.” 

Bog shrugged. “I think my parents were either drunk or going through a “hippie” phase.” Bog used his long fingers to emphasize the point. “Or it could just be because they are from Scotland and we are all weird.” 

Marianne grinned. “I like it.” 

Bog frowned looking stunned. “Really? It means toliet ya know.” 

She nodded. “Yes I really do. It is unusual.” She stopped as what he said sunk in. “It doesn't!” She bumped him with her shoulder again and Bog laughed. “It does!!” 

She giggled. “It’s unusual and I like it, so there.” 

Bog chuckled. “Oh, it's definitely unusual.” 

Marianne bumped him with her shoulder and Bog smiled. “I like your name. Marianne--it means rebellious or bitter grace.” 

Marianne burst out laughing. “Bitter grace? I think that describes me perfectly.” 

Bog laughed. “You don’t seem bitter at all, maybe rebellious.” 

Marianne grinned and lifted her eyebrows a fraction. “I seem rebellious to you.” 

He nodded. “Aye you do. Coming in here and offering some weirdo a hot dog? Rebellious and a bit odd.” 

Marianne smiled brightly and shrugged. “What can I say? I like tall Scottish weirdo’s with incredible eyes who play piano. I remember hearing you play last time I was in that restaurant where you used to work.” 

Bog started to reply, cleared his throat, began again. “That’s my family’s restaurant...I…” When he stopped in mid-sentence to stare at her with his mouth hanging open, his hand up in mid-gesture, before he said softly dropping his hand to his lap. “You think I have incredible eyes?” 

Marianne blushed and nodded. “I do. I’ve never seen anyone with eyes as blue are yours.” 

She reached up toward his glasses, hesitating when her fingers touched his frame, but Bog didn’t move, he just went very still. Marianne removed his glasses which made his eyes stand out even more. 

She smiled studying his eyes. Bog looked adorably unfocused without his glasses. His nose was long and sharp, his cheekbones were also sharp and his jaw was narrow, ending in a pointed chin, but his lips were soft, and his eyes looked as if parts of a spring day had been captured in them, clear, cloudless blue eyes. 

Marianne said softly. “You have beautiful eyes.” 

Bog blushed and reached for his glasses looking away from her. She handed them back and he slipped them on. He didn’t turn back to face her right away, instead he looked down at the half eaten hot dog in his hand. It was clear he didn’t know how to respond. She found him charming in his shyness and so different than most men. Most men would have been trying their best to look cool and maybe even act a bit ridiculous to have a woman who had made the first move, maybe even pumping out their chests and acting...well stupid. But Bog was shy, he clearly was not accustomed to hearing compliments about the way he looked and he wasn’t sure how to respond. That only made Marianne want to know him more. 

Marianne wrapped her arms around herself and rubbed her upper arms. Her heart was beating rapidly. She had never been this forward with any man before. She usually went the more traditional route of waiting for them to ask her out but with Bog, she just knew if she didn’t make the first move--the second and the third too probably--he never would. So even though her palms were sweaty and her heart was beating rapidly, she took the plunge. 

“I need to get back to class but, ah, would you like to go to dinner with me?” She looked hopefully at him. 

Bog smiled. It was such a sweet smile with a hint of surprise in his eyes, he really was shocked she asked, Marianne realized. She tried to keep the frown from her eyes and mouth, but clearly someone had hurt him. That made her angry at whoever this mysterious woman who had hurt him was...Marianne would like to...but then her attention was yanked back to the moment as Bog pushed his glasses up with his middle finger and answered her with that sexy lilt to his voice that she was positive he had no idea made her shiver. 

“I would like to go to dinner with you.” He gave her a smile and yes, she noted, he had crooked teeth. 

Marianne beamed. 

* 

Bog made no mention of going out to dinner with anyone that night. He simply told his parents that he was exhausted and would just make himself a sandwich and head to bed. His mother had narrowed her eyes at him as he stood in her kitchen while his father, who had been playing with his new phone at the kitchen table, cursed vividly under his breath and had simply waved his hand. 

“You go get some sleep boy.” 

Griselda stood at her stove with a large ladle in her hand stirring the contents of her pot which Bog was sure was beef stew, when she turned to narrow her eyes at her son. “You sure yer all right Bog?” 

He nodded as he pulled his glasses off and cleaned them with his shirt. “Yeah, yeah just a long day.” 

His mother frowned as her eyes narrowed a little more. Bog had no idea what he was doing that was giving his mother the vibe that something was up, but she was on to him Bog was sure of it. 

“You sure yer all right Bog dear? You look a little peely-wally.” 

“I’m sure Mam, just tired.” Bog hovered near the back door wanting to make a break for his apartment so he could shower and change. 

Finally, after staring at him for a good minute until Bog was feeling himself start to fidget Griselda sighed. “All right Bug, you go get some rest.” 

Bog tried not to sigh with relief. “I’ll be over fer breakfast, I promise Mam.” He gave his mother a quick kiss on the cheek and waved at his father. “Night Da.” 

Boyd waved distractedly. “Night Bog.” 

Griselda’s frown remained in place even after Bog had left, then shot a glanced over at her husband. “Something is up with that boy.” 

Boyd sighed. “Woman, leave the boy alone, he’s just a bit ‘goosed. Ya made that boy into a zoomer.” 

Griselda narrowed her eyes at him. 

Boyd sensed he was being glared at by his wife. He put his phone on the kitchen table and walked over to her putting his arms around her waist and kissed her ear and whispered. “My bonnie lass.” 

Griselda giggled and elbowed him. “Yer a Daftie’ Boyd King.” 

He laughed nuzzling her neck. “Aye, but you love me.” 

She shook her head. “I’m an idiot too.” 

They both laughed. 

* 

Bog waited on the sidewalk nervously. He was dressed in a pair of khaki slacks, a dark blue button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up and tucked in with a pair of brown, monk-strap ankle boots. He had agonized over what to wear. She had said to just dress casual, but he figured there were levels of casual and he had no idea what they were!! He paced along the sidewalk, stealing glances at his parents’ house and praying that they didn’t look out the window when a purple 2016 Mazda CX-3 rode up to stop in front of him. The window rolled down to reveal Marianne behind the wheel. 

She grinned brightly. “Hey!” 

Bog greeted her with a smile while blushing. “Hey.” 

She motioned with her head. “Get in.” 

Bog opened the door and slid into the passenger seat. It was a little cramped for his long legs, but he made it work as he took the seat and pulled his seatbelt over his torso. He glanced at Marianne and his heart skipped several beats. She looked incredible wearing a simple white button down shirt with three quarter sleeves and a dark purple and black plaid trouser skirt, He couldn’t help but notice that her legs were bare and--to his delight--she had opted to wear a pair of white sneakers. Her makeup was done in such a way as to make her brown eyes stand out and her lips were painted with a dark plum color. His heart wanted to slam right out of his chest. She was so pretty, just so beautiful that she took his breath away. 

She grinned. “Ready?” 

Bog nodded. “Yep.” 

She smiled and pulled away from the sidewalk. 

* 

The restaurant Marianne took Bog to was nice, elegant with that warm atmosphere that invited long dinner conversation, and, as Bog was relieved to note, he was dressed just right, not too fancy and not wearing jeans. 

They were seated at a table near the back in a little corner which gave them a sense of privacy. The table was small and intimate which was also nice--and nerve wracking Bog thought to himself. The waitress came over to their table a few seconds later, a blonde with a bubbly personality and big smile. 

“And what can I get you two good looking people to drink?” 

Marianne grinned and glanced over at Bog. “Feel free to order anything you want.” 

Bog frowned. “I don’t expect you to pay for me. We can go halves.” 

Marianne made a face at him wrinkling her nose. “Please, I asked you out, so I’m paying.” 

Bog started to protest, but Marianne reached out and laid her hand over the top of his. “Bog, please my treat. How about our next date you get to pay okay?” 

Bog stared at her. She was already considering going out with him again? Marianne could read the expression on his face as she squeezed his hand. “If you would like to go out with me again that is.” 

Bog glanced at the waitress then to Marianne. “I would love to go out with you again, but what if...I...I don’t know...do something you hate?” 

Marianne smiled softly. “I doubt you will ever do that Bog.” 

He smiled and blushed before he asked in a soft voice, his accent made the words ripple across her skin. “So, uh, Marianne, would you like to go out with me again tomorrow night?” 

Marianne beamed at him. “I thought you would never ask.” 

The waitress looked between the two of them, her expression made her look as if she would swoon at any moment. 

Bog rotated his hand around and held Marianne’s as he looked at the menu. “Umm, how about The Rob Ford?” 

Marianne looked at the menu too and grinned. “Now that is a good choice. I’ll have one too.” 

The waitress smiled. “Be right back with those.” 

Bog smiled. “I like chocolate milk.” 

Marianne giggled and squeezed his hand. “Me too.” 

“So, ah...what do you do?” Bog asked finding that he didn’t feel awkward holding her hand. Marianne put her chin in her other hand as she leaned on the table. “I teach history at the university. I also teach fencing on the side. It’s weird I know, but I love history and sticking people with pointy objects.” 

Bog laughed. “Wow much more interesting than me.” 

“Oh I doubt that!” Marianne grinned. 

Bog shook his head. “No it’s true. Up until recently I’ve only ever worked in my family’s restaurant. I just took a few college computer courses and some classes to brush up on my piano playing.” 

“You play beautifully,” she observed. 

Bog blushed as Marianne stroked her thumb across the underside of his wrist. She smiled softly. “I would love to hear you play again.” 

Bog swallowed and pushed his glasses up. “Well ah, I usually play on Fridays and Saturdays…” 

She beamed at him. “I’m looking forward to it.” 

Bog grinned, glancing down shyly. That was when the waitress returned with their drinks. They stopped holding hands to each try their drinks. 

Bog grinned and nodded. “Now, that is good.” 

Marianne took another sip. “Very! Good choice.” 

Bog grinned. “Thank you.” 

She took another tiny sip before she asked. “So, your family owns that restaurant?” 

He nodded. “As well as a few other businesses. When my father immigrated here he didn’t just bring me and my Mam, it ended up being the entire family. My cousins, aunts, uncles, grandparents. We came over in a big wave.” 

Marianne looked impressed. “Wow, to leave your home country to come here. That’s amazing.” 

Bog smiled. “I guess.” 

“My family is boring. My dad’s a lawyer. My mother is a homemaker. My sister teaches music with her husband at the same college I do...and that’s it.” Marianne shrugged. “Nothing exciting or really all that interesting.” 

Bog murmured. “Not boring at all and I think you are very interesting.” 

Marianne smiled, her cheeks rosy as she murmured. “Thank you.” 

* 

Dinner with Marianne was one of the best experiences of his life Bog thought. She was not just beautiful, but smart with a biting sense of humor. He could have listened to her talk all night long. It had almost been upsetting when they both realized how late it was, her with classes to teach in the morning and him with his own classes to attend and work that afternoon. It was nearly midnight when Marianne drove him home. She parked along the curb where she had picked him up. 

Bog smiled pushing up his glasses. “I had a wonderful time.” 

Marianne returned his smile. “Me too.” 

Bog swallowed. “So, ah...good night.” 

Just as Bog began to turn toward the door, she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. Bog went still in surprise. Marianne followed her unexpected action by saying softly. 

“I’m looking forward to tomorrow night.” 

Bog shoved his glasses up, his cheeks bright red, but he was smiling and his voice was soft. “Me too Marianne.” 

Marianne wanted to purr and curl up in his lap when he said her name with just a slight roll of the “r.” 

Bog leaned over hesitantly, looking at her for a denial, before he finally brushed his lips across her cheek returning her kiss with one of his own. “Sleep well Marianne.” 

“You too Bog.” She blushed, but she was smiling hard enough that her cheeks felt like they would be aching by the time she got home, but she didn’t care, not one little bit. 

Bog reluctantly slipped out of the car and turned to wave at her. Marianne leaned over to look at him and smiled. She waved back before she drove off. Bog turned with a skip in his step shoving his hands in the front pockets of his pants, grinning ear to ear, and began to head over to his apartment when he heard the sound of a door opening from his parents’ house followed by… 

“Bog?” 

Bog winced, freezing midstep. He turned slowly toward the house only to see his mother standing in the doorway. “Hey Mam.” 

Griselda leaned in the kitchen doorway. Wearing her flowery pink bathrobe and fuzzy pink slippers made her look much younger than she actually was. Her red hair was pulled up into a sloppy bun, but several frizzy curls had escaped to frame her face. 

“Going to bed early, eh?” she asked as she crossed her arms over her chest. 

Bog sighed and walked over, grabbed a plastic lawn chair from around his parents’ backyard table in each hand as he came over. He set the chairs down closer to the door before taking a seat as his mother came down the couple of stairs to sit down beside him. 

“Sorry Mam, I just...I didn't want you both to know I had a date,” Bog explained shyly. “You know...just in case.” 

“That’s wonderful Bog!” Griselda exclaimed. “A date? Why on earth would you not want us to know?” His mother frowned looking confused as she tilted her head. 

“Just in case...I don’t know, things didn’t go well.” Bog said softly. “I didn’t want to...I didn’t want you feeling sorry for me if I screwed it up and she hated me.” 

“Did the date go badly?” his mother asked as she reached out to place a hand on one of his knees. The look of concern on his mother’s face made him smile. She may be a lot of things: overbearing, nosy, overprotective, but he never once doubted that his mother loved and cared about him. 

Bog grinned from ear to ear. “No, it didn’t. We had a great time. She’s...um, she’s amazing Mam.” Bog blushed as he spoke. “She is beautiful, smart, funny...I just...I can’t figure out why she asked me out.” 

His mother sat up straighter. “What? She asked you out?” 

Bog nodded blushing beet red. “She did. She saw me at the restaurant playing the piano...and she saw me at the travel agency...and...asked me out.” 

Griselda smiled squeezing her son’s knee as she fell in love with this girl. “What’s her name?” 

Bog, still smiling his mother noted, leaned forward, leaning his elbows on his knees and laced his fingers together, his hands dangling between his legs. “Marianne, her name is Marianne..” 

Griselda nodded. “That’s a very pretty name.” 

“She is very pretty Mam.” Bog said. “And like I said, she is really smart. She teaches history at the university.” 

Griselda hated to ask, but she knew her husband would be curious…“She is Scottish?” 

Bog shook his head. “No, just American.” 

He chewed his bottom lip a little then whispered. “We’re going out again tomorrow night.” 

Griselda laughed and clapped her hands. “Oh Bog that is wonderful!” 

Bog worried his bottom lip. “What if I screw it up?” 

Griselda tsked at her son. “Bog honey, you won’t my little bug.” She reached out and pinched his sharp cheek. 

Bog laughed batting her away. “Mam!!” 

“Clearly this young lady has excellent taste.” Griselda grinned as she stood and leaned over to grab her son’s face between her hands and then planted a loud kiss on his forehead. “I love you little Bug, go get some sleep.” 

Bog chuckled and stood pulling his mother into a tight hug. “I love you Mam.” 

“Love you too honey.” His mother held him tight. 

* 

Bog drove his car, an old silver Porsche 959 that had belonged to his older brother Bruce since forever, to pick up Marianne. Bog loved the car, especially since Bruce had painted it and made sure that car was in perfect working condition when he gave it to his little brother as a gift when Bog turned eighteen. He was a little nervous for Marianne to see the car since it wasn’t new and slick, but he hoped she would like it as much as he did. Maybe as a historian, she would think of it as material history... 

He pulled onto her street and parked in front of the apartment building whose address matched the address she had texted him earlier in the day. It was nice, though nothing particularly fancy. He took a nervous breath and eased out of the car, then headed over to the front door to hit the buzzer. He was dressed in black slacks, a black t-shirt with a tan blazer over the top and a pair of lace up, oxford style boots. He stopped to look at himself in the door’s reflective surface with a grimace thinking how he was just too many sharp angles and...well, ugly. He frowned shoving up his glasses and dragged his teeth over his bottom lip looking down at himself, but he closed his eyes and whispered. 

“No, she likes you. Stop over thinking it Bog.” 

He reached out and pushed the button. 

* 

Marianne squeaked jumping a foot when her buzzer went off only to have Dawn laugh. “Oh my god Marianne! Why are you so nervous? Isn’t this your second date?” 

Marianne wore a pair of loose black slacks that were rolled up above her ankle, a button down beige shirt with a pair of silver oxfords. Marianne ran her hands down her front to straighten imaginary wrinkles. 

“I just...I really like him Dawn.” 

Dawn smiled leaning back on her sister’s couch. Sunny was in the kitchen making popcorn while Dawn picked up Marianne’s new kitten. Dawn and her husband were kitten sitting while Marianne went out. The little white kitten immediately started to crawl up Dawn’s chest to her neck where the little cat began to play with Dawn’s earrings. 

“You should invite him up.” Dawn smiled, wincing as tiny kitten claws hit her cheek. “I wanna see him.” 

Marianne hissed. “Not yet! He’s shy.” 

Dawn smiled. “Can I see him from your window?” 

Marianne was walking over to the buzzer. “I don’t know.” She hit the button. “Hello?” 

She heard Bog’s voice, the warm purr of his accent, immediately sent shivers down her spine. 

“It’s me, Bog,” he replied. 

Marianne grinned. “I’ll be right down.” 

That was when she heard her sister behind her. “Oh wow.” 

Marianne turned to see Dawn and her kitten Imp, curled in the crook of his sister’s arm as the young blonde pressed herself against the window. “I’ve seen him before. He was at that restaurant, the waiter that forgot I existed...and you know, I think I’ve seen him in the music department too...yeah I have…” 

Marianne hurried over and looked out the window. Bog had moved onto the well lit sidewalk with his hands in his front pockets as he seemed to be dancing to himself. He looked to be doing a slow, half-hearted version of a Riverdance. Marianne made a small sound of pleasure at seeing him. She didn’t notice her sister glance over at her and grin until Dawn murmured. “Wow, you got it bad.” 

Marianne looked over at her sister and blushed. 

Dawn pushed. “Go, go have fun.” 

Marianne kissed her on the cheek. “Thanks for kitten sitting.” 

Dawn grinned. “My pleasure.” 

Marianne grabbed her purse and yelled. “Bye Sunny!” 

Sunny poked his head around the corner from inside the kitchen. “Bye Marianne have fun!” 

* 

Bog stopped dancing, which was both an expression of his feelings at the moment and a way to focus his nervous energy, stopping just in time to see Marianne coming down the last flight of stairs. He stood and stared, his mouth hanging open. She was so damn pretty. 

She opened the door and hurried out. 

Bog put his hand out to her and Marianne took with a smile. “So, where are we going?” 

* 

Dinner was just as nice as the night before, maybe better Bog thought. He was much more relaxed, which helped and thus much more talkative. Marianne told him about her classes, her sister, her new kitten. All in all, it was a nice experience, very nice. 

After dinner Bog took Marianne on a walk. The restaurant was downtown near the park which was open until midnight. There were lights draped through the trees and there was the sound of live music drifting through the park. They could both hear the soft sounds of a string quartet playing Polovtsian Dance as they walked holding hands. 

Marianne was telling Bog a story from when she and her sister were kids. “So there we are, me and my sister trapped in a log cabin with my parents for two weeks with no internet, no phone access…” She was laughing. “I thought my sister was gonna die!” 

Bog laughed then asked. “Weren’t any of your cousins there?” 

Marianne frowned “No. My two cousins live in California.” 

Bog frowned in surprise. “You only have two cousins?” 

She nodded then tilted her head to look at Bog as they stopped on a small bridge that ran over a little stream that ran through the park. The fairy lights reflected off the water making the area look soft and romantic. They both leaned on the rail looking out into the water. 

“How many cousins do you have?” Marianne asked. 

Bog chuckled. “Well, a lot more than two.” 

Marianne smiled facing Bog, her elbow on the rail. “So, tell me about your mom and dad, any brothers or sisters?” 

Bog blushed glancing away from her. “I have two older brothers, William Wallace...and yes after the Scottish hero, and Bruce...also named after another Scottish hero...I guess they ran out of heroes they liked when they got to me.” He chuckled. 

He went quiet. Marianne frowned. “And?” 

Bog glanced down. “I have a really big family.” 

Marianne grinned. “How big. I mean...like, what’s Christmas like?” 

Bog leaned with both arms on the rail pushing up on his toes to look down into the water. “My Mam makes cock-a-leekie soup, roast turkey…” He fell silent. 

Marianne gently poked him in the side. “And?” 

Bog sighed. “My family is big and loud. I have twenty-one first cousins. My Da, my Uncle Aibeart, my cousins Tioboid, Siubhan, Brodie, Anabella, and my uncle Rory nearly always get drunk and start singing loudly. My aunt Plum still believes that a dark man bearing salt, whiskey, shortbread, coal and a black bun should be the first person to cross your threshold at midnight on Hogmanay. My grandmother, thank god, lives with my aunt Plum; the first thing she did when she arrived in America was to plant a Rowan tree to protect against witches. They all drink, talk a lot, curse a lot, and…” Bog frowned. “No one in my family has ever gone out with anyone who wasn’t Scottish. I mean...everyone is Scottish. It’s what my father wants...it’s what my family expects…” Bog frowned. “We are always together and everyone knows everyone else’s business all the time. It’s…” 

Marianne smiled. “It sounds a little fun.” 

Bog turned to look at her with surprise clear on his features. 

Marianne stepped closer to him. He could smell the warm scent of vanilla on her skin as she leaned against his shoulder, her arms on the rail. She reached over and stroked his arm. “You have a weird family, who doesn’t? All I know was that my life was dull and then I saw you, this gorgeous, handsome man with these sexy blue eyes, and now all I want is to spend time with you, get to know you.” Marianne smiled gently at him. 

Bog stared at her. “Did...did you just call me handsome?” 

Marianne giggled and nodded. “I did.” 

She watched the blush creep across his cheeks as he glanced down, his glasses moved just slightly down his nose as he said softly. “I think you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.” 

Marianne flushed. “Really?” 

Bog looked up at her and nodded. “Yes, really.” 

They were slowly drawn toward each other. Bog turned to face her and reached out, sliding his hand along her throat, his thumb caressed her cheek as he very softly pulled her closer. Marianne leaned into him and brushed her lips against his mouth. His lips were warm, soft. She slowly opened her mouth. Bog responded with a very soft flick of his tongue, a question in the gesture. She eagerly answered with a caress of her tongue against his lips, turning her entire body into him. Bog slipped his other arm around her waist and very gently drew her to him, opening his mouth a little wider. His tongue slipped into her mouth to caress her tongue. Marianne wrapped her arms around his shoulders. 

They stood on the bridge kissing softly, yet quite passionately.


	4. Family

Later that evening, around midnight, Bog parked the car in front of her apartment building and turned off the engine. They both looked at each other with embarrassed blushes on their cheeks, neither of them quite knowing what to do. Bog swallowed, looking at his hands on the wheel. 

“Ah, would you like to have dinner again tomorrow?” he asked shyly. 

Marianne’s smile was bright with enthusiasm. “I would love to.” 

Bog grinned wider, his cheeks hurting. “Okay, I’ll ah, pick you up around eight?” 

Marianne nodded, then spoke softly. “Good night Bog.” 

He smiled. “Good night Marianne.” 

She quickly leaned over and kissed him. Bog leaned into her, returning her kiss with a slow heat that began to build between them, The interior of the car was quickly heating up when Marianne suddenly pulled away touching her mouth with the tips of her fingers 

She was flushed a deep red as she whispered. “Good night Bog.” 

He pushed his glasses up his nose with a broad smile. “Good night.” 

* 

The following night Bog pulled up in front of Marianne’s apartment building again, around midnight. Once more he shut off the engine and the two of them sat there, not wanting to end the night just yet. 

* 

Upstairs in her sister’s apartment, Dawn held Imp, waved Sunny over and pointed out the large front window of her big sister’s apartment. “That's his car right there.” 

Sunny frowned taking the kitten when it reached for him. “How long they been sitting there?” 

Dawn giggled. “About half an hour.” 

Sunny laughed. “Remember when we would make out before I would drop you off?” 

Dawn blushed. “Oh yeah I do.” 

Sunny gave her rear a pinch, placing the kitten on his shoulder. “Wanna go makeout later?” 

Dawn giggled. “I thought you would never ask.” 

* 

That evening, Bog and Marianne had gone to a movie and had a romantic dinner afterwards at a little sandwich shop. Marianne was smiling the whole time; that was all she seemed capable of doing lately, smiling. Bog made her so happy. He was sweet, smart, handsome, and funny. She found herself counting the hours until she could be with him again. 

She glanced over at him where he sat behind the wheel of his car. They were both experiencing that awkward silence where neither one of them want to go, but they both had to get some sleep for the next day. Marianne finally leaned into him and kissed him. Bog returned her kiss slowly, turning his whole body toward her, one long fingered hand cupped the side of her neck while his fingers gently caressed the back of her neck. 

Marianne grabbed the front of his shirt with one hand, moving her mouth over his slowly, her tongue sliding along his in a slow wet kiss until she thought she might spontaneously combust. She had to force herself to let go of him and sit back. 

“Ah...good night,” she said breathlessly. 

Bog grinned looking just as flustered. “Good night.” 

She started to get out of the car when she stopped, looked back at him. “Ah...pick you up around 7:30 tomorrow?” 

Bog gave her a lopsided grin. “Sounds great.” 

* 

Things went on this way for several weeks, a dinner date, a lunch date, a picnic, a movie...and each time they would kiss...deep passionate kisses, but Bog’s hands never went any further than her back and Marianne never sat on his lap, keeping her hands and legs to herself. 

Bog was frustrated, but in a happy way, which was shared by Marianne. 

* 

Three weeks later. 

Marianne wore a little purple sundress with tiny red rosebuds in print that ran riot over the fabric, and a pair of gladiator style sandals. She parked along the sidewalk next to the home of Bog’s parents and took a deep breath, followed by a smile. Bog, dressed in jeans and a dark blue dress shirt, and his favorite boots, could see a light on, which meant his mother was up roaming the house like a predator hoping to catch him on his way up to his apartment. He frowned when he thought he caught sight of a curtain moving, but he quickly forgot all about it as Marianne reached around to glide her fingers along his jaw to his chin and gently turned him to face her. 

Bog turned to look at her with a smile. 

Marianne murmured, her eyes moving from his startling blue eyes, to his lips. 

“Hey,” she said, her voice slightly husky. 

Bog grinned. “Hey.” 

He slowly moved his fingers along her neck and gently tugged her closer to kiss her. The kiss this time made Bog feel so giddy and hot that he made a soft groan as his fingers slid into her hair. 

Marianne grasped his shoulder, leaning into his kiss, while her fingers dug into the cloth of his shirt. After a few long seconds of being twisted in her seat, Marianne moved. This would be the first time in all these weeks that she had made such an aggressive move on Bog, but the fire he had been slowly stroking in her was burning bright tonight. He was all she could think about, waiting and counting the moments until she got to spend time with him! 

She shifted out of the driver's seat and moved up and over to straddle his lap. She grinned at Bog as she removed his glasses, leaning back to place them on the dashboard. 

Bog blinked to adjust his vision a little. She was slightly blurry, but she leaned in closer coming into focus. She dragged her finger over his bottom lip with a broad and inviting smile. “Kiss me Bog.” 

Bog grinned, the red of his cheeks spreading to his ears. “Ah...sure.” 

Bog was only slightly surprised when he suddenly had Marianne in his lap. He resisted the urge to grab her legs or her waist (as much as he wanted to), but he slid the fingers of one hand into her hair while with the other hand he grabbed her upper arm, opening his mouth wide against hers when he tugged her closer to kiss her. Marianne groaned, leaned into him, both hands in his hair, her elbows resting lightly on his shoulders. She didn’t “grind” against him, but she did press down. She could feel that he was erect, a hard mound straining against the denim of his jeans. Marianne made a small whimper of pleasure; need caused her to bite his tongue gently, before she bit lightly at his lips. 

Bog groaned in response to Marianne’s movements and the little sounds she made. His hand on her arm slid to her elbow, then he reached for her, his hand going to her waist to tug her closer still. Marianne reached down beside them and grabbed the lever she knew popped the seat back. The seat jerked backwards quickly and they both gasped and then laughed before they began once more to kiss. 

When Bog touched her, Marianne deepened their kiss. God, she was on fire! She had been wanting him to touch her...really touch her for days and now Bog had finally grabbed her waist. His grip was not a gentle hold, no--his fingers were spread as if he were trying to touch as much of her as possible. She arched her back a little, thrusting her chest out hoping he realized she was giving him permission to touch her chest. She thought she might have to grab his hand and slam it on her breast if he didn’t do something soon! She kissed him harder in frustration, her tongue brushed against his teeth at the same time she brushed her groin against the hard mound between her legs. 

Bog’s teeth stroked across her tongue. His groin hurt, no ached was the more appropriate word. He wanted her to touch him, wanted to touch her breasts, to feel her skin. 

He had been dreaming about making love to her for weeks now, wondering what she looked like naked, dreaming about licking her skin...licking other things… 

The sundress she was wearing felt suddenly so thin when his hand grasped her waist, but when she thrust her chest out at him, Bog groaned. Was that a sign? Was he reading her right? He didn't want to mess this up, mess up what they had, but...damn he needed to touch her! He took a chance, his heart slammed so hard inside his chest, he was sure Marianne had to be able to hear it. His hand inched up her side until his thumb was under her breast. He could feel the texture of her bra through her dress, the round curve of her breast…then she brushed against his groin and he was pretty sure he saw stars for a second. The brief brush nearly did him in as he groaned more loudly than he intended. 

Marianne moaned, wrapped her arms around Bog, and leaned in toward him. His thumb was so close, her breasts were aching! She needed him to touch her. She shifted her weight again, feeling that delicious mound between her legs. She moved in a way that made Bog grunt, and his entire body jerked in response. Marianne thought she just might die because the sound he made was so sexy, better than what she had imagined in her dreams, her dreams in which she had him on his back, her fingers pressed into his chest...Mentally she begged for him to inch his hand up… 

Bog pulled her close while his hand slid up to cup her breast, his other hand dropped to her leg where he slid his fingers under the hem of her dress. Her thigh was smooth, 

warm, soft like silk. He corrected his thought--even softer and smoother, like satin...his hand moved up her leg to her hip where his fingertips brushed against the fabric of her panties. He brought his hand over her hips and around, spreading his fingers to very gently press against her rear. 

Marianne stopped kissing him only to make a soft moan and grab his bottom lip with her teeth. 

Bog smiled squeezing her tiny breast in his hand. She was so soft he thought absently. He could feel her nipple through the fabric of her bra and dress, hard and sensitive. He dragged his fingers over that spot and Marianne jerked. She made a little growl, pressing her knees down against the seat as she leaned into him. She noticed with an inward grin that she had completely messed up his hair, then pulled his head back against the seat so she could attack his throat. 

Bog's eyes rolled when he felt Marianne suck on his neck while she continued to press herself down on him, rolling her hips while he squeezed her breast and his other hand moved past her panties to grip her rear, her flesh smooth, round and firm. 

Her mouth moved back to his where she nipped at his lips. His hands on her burned deliciously and she wanted more. 

Bog moved his hand from her breast, reaching down with both hands under the skirt of her sundress where he gripped her rear and lifted her up just a little which brought her breasts up to his face. He mouthed her nipple through the sundress and bra, kissing the skin along the top of her dress where her cleavage disappeared into the garment only to go back to kissing and nipping her breasts through the dress again. 

Marianne was breathing heavily, her eyes rolling back. She didn’t want him to stop, but then Bog dropped his head back, his breathing ragged. “Uh...we should stop Marianne.” 

Marianne pouted. Her heart was beating so quickly, her blood felt on fire and her body was wanting him so desperately...but he was right. 

Marianne panted, blinked slowly. “Okay...okay…” 

She moved off of him and crawled back into the driver's seat. 

Bog took a few precious seconds to catch his breath, reaching down to shove on his painful erection a little thankful that he didn’t live in the main part of the house. He reached over to the dash for his glasses, slipping them on before he rolled his head to the side grinning at her. 

Marianne was straightening out her dress glancing sideways at him with a silly smile. 

Bog grinned. “Wanna go out again tomorrow?” 

Marianne laughed. “You know you don’t really have to ask any more. I want to spend every night with you.” 

Bog smiled reaching over to drag the back of his fingers along her arm. “I want to spend all day, everyday with you,” he said softly. 

Marianne grabbed his hand and held his fingers to her lips. “Me too Bog.” 

They stared at one another for a long time. Marianne holding his hand to her lips, Bog staring at her as if she had hung the moon. 

Finally he sighed. “I should go.” 

She nodded. “Yeah...me too. Classes tomorrow.” 

“What time should I pick you up?” he asked. 

Marianne grinned. “You free around five?” 

Bog grinned. “I will be.” 

* 

The next day Bog was in his mother’s kitchen humming happily to himself, dressed in jeans, blue t-shirt and combat boots, a few steel nails sticking out of his mouth as he worked to hang up a spice cabinet for her, his thoughts on Marianne. He alternated his humming with singing under his breath. 

“He-ree he-ro my bonnie wee girl 

He-ree he-ro my fair one 

Will you come away my love 

To be my own my rare one…” 

His mother, wearing a pair of blue capris with a t-shirt bearing the Scottish flag across the chest, came into the kitchen with a basket of potatoes from her garden outside. His grandmother, her white hair cut short, a cigarette in her mouth, dressed in one of her long pleated skirts and a white blouse shuffled along behind her. His Nanna was here today while his aunt was downtown taking care of some business. Griselda set the basket on the table glancing at Bog’s grandmother then at her son who continued to sing to himself. The two women smiled at each other before Griselda began taking the potatoes out of her basket. 

“So, you seem happy my little bug,” Griselda said in a tone as nonchalant as she could make it. 

Bog pulled one of the nails from his mouth and hammered it into the wall. “Well, yeah I guess I am. Things have been looking brighter as of late.” He turned his head to share a smile with his Mam and Nanna. 

Griselda nodded with a grin. “It wouldn’t be because of a particular young woman would it?” 

Bog’s eyes widened as he glanced again over at his mother and Nanna. He had assumed that no one knew other than his mother. “Ah…” She laughed and waved her hand at her son in dismissal. “Go on, never mind. Come along Nanna, let’s go to the store and leave Bog to his hanging.” Nanna nodded. She began to follow Griselda when sje stopped to look up at Bog with a smile, pulling her cigarette out of her mouth to say softly. “Innsidh na geòidh as t-fhoghar e,” before she went out after his mother. Bog made a face; he really hated it when Nanna would mutter some Scottish Gaelic saying at him without explanation. 

* 

Another couple of days went by. 

Bog was working at his aunt’s travel office alone. It was a slightly overcast day and things were moving very slowly today, but Marianne had stopped by to see him on her lunch break. She had brought over grilled chicken breast sandwiches. They had closed the office and had eaten on the floor. The office was now open again, though no one had been in all day. Marianne had shoved Bog up against the wall when he started to pick up some papers to make copies causing the tall man to stumble and trip. He turned around only to have Marianne pin him to the wall. 

They were leaning against a corner between the printer and the paper shredder. Marianne leaned up and licked his chin. Bog giggled, reaching out to lay his hands on her rear and rubbed his nose against hers as he squeezed. 

Marianne wore a black and white checked pencil skirt with a black blouse while Bog was dressed in grey slacks and a white shirt with a grey tie. Bog squeezed her rear again with a grin. 

“Mm...I really like the professor look you have going here.” 

Marianne giggled holding onto his tie as she licked his lips. “Mm...you look so cute, though if I could get this tie off…” 

Bog chuckled as his glasses slid down his long nose. “Oh?” 

She smiled. “Maybe tonight you should just come over to my place....” She brushed her lips against his, her brown eyes steamy. “We could have dinner, watch a movie...make out on the couch...and maybe you could…” 

She didn’t get to finish her sentence before the door chime over head jingled merrily and they both turned to see a tall, muscular woman with short auburn hair, burst through the door and stopped short, her eyes going wide. 

Her voice was pitched high in surprise as she gasped. “What in the world...BOG!” 

Bog made a small “meep” of surprise then grimaced. “Hey Stuff.” 

“Ugh! Bog, will you not call me that?” She shook her head. “So, who's the pretty girl?” 

Bog turned to fully face his cousin, his arm around Marianne’s waist. “Siubhan, this is Marianne, Marianne, this is my cousin Siubhan.” 

Siubhan stepped forward with her hand out. 

Marianne smiled. “Oh you’re the first member of Bog’s family I’ve met!” She took the other woman’s hand. Stuff held on tightly and shook, giving Marianne a once over, her nose wrinkled then smiled. “Oh yeah, you are gorgeous. Good job Bog.” 

Bog groaned. “Stuff!! Damn it!” 

His cousin smiled. “Okay, okay, kidding. Sorry Marianne. You are very pretty though and ah…” She pointed at Bog. “You like stick bug here?” 

Marianne beamed. “Oh, I more than like him.” 

Siubhan grinned. “Good because...well I came down here Bog, because I don’t know how, but everyone knows you got a serious girlfriend.” 

Bog paled. “But…” he narrowed his eyes as he took a heavy breath through his nostrils. “Mam.” 

She shook her head. “Wasn’t yer mother Bog. Nanna got drunk last night...you know, the Glasgow Warriors were playing last night and you know how she gets.” (Bog whispered to Marianne. “Rugby team.”) “Now granted it was hard to make out everything…” The tall woman turned to Marianne. “Nanna speaks mostly Scottish Gaelic and most of us have a hard time understanding her, but when she gets a bit tipsy she actually tends to be a little more clear. Anyway she let spill you had a girlfriend...so now everyone knows. I thought I would come warn you.” 

Bog groaned. 

* 

That night, instead of the date they had planned, Marianne sat at the long dinner table in Bog’s parents’ house. Not everyone was there for the dinner, just his mother and father, his Nanna, Aunt Plum, Uncle Aibeart, his brothers William and Bruce with their wives and Siubhan and Tioboid who had tagged along with Aunt Plum and Uncle Aibeart. Dressed in black slacks, a white dress shirt and matching black vest--minus tie--Bog sat next to Marianne who wore a lovely simple purple dress with flutter sleeves. He looked nervous, his glasses constantly slipped own his nose because he was sweating. Marianne held his hand under the table which helped, her fingers laced with his. He wanted this dinner to be over with so he could tell her he loved her. It had been eating at him all day, he wanted her to know how he felt about her, now! Before his family ruined everything...but he hadn’t gotten a chance to yet. Marianne had been excited about the dinner when Stuff had told him the family wanted to meet her--tonight--and he hadn’t been able to tell her no. So now, here he was, terrified as he waited for one of them to say something stupid, insulting or just plain embarrassing. 

This dinner was almost as embarrassing as all the dinners in the past in which his father would set him up with girls of known Scottish families: sisters, daughters, granddaughters of someone his father knew...There had been a while there when it had seemed to be an endless stream of women, from a little younger to a little older than Bog and numerous women in between who sat at this table and had dinner until his father had finally given up, especially after the last shouting match the two men had had over one of the women who had a prison record. But Bog suspected--depending on how this dinner went--there would be another endless amount of uncomfortable dinners with another long line of Scottish women that Bog had no interest in. 

Especially now since he was in love with Marianne. 

He had realized that he loved her the moment his cousin had told him that the family all knew about him and his secret girlfriend; Bog was in love and he would fight to be with her. He just needed to tell Marianne. 

His mother had made a large dinner that was currently spread across the table. Bog was sure she had pulled out all the Scottish stops to not just to impress Marianne with her cooking (his mother was a proud cook), but to also to test Marianne and her taste buds. Because there was haggis, neeps in whiskey sauce, mash potatoes, old Scots brown soup, apple puddings in skins, along with a vegetable and meat pudding. It was such a traditional Scottish meal he expected it to be in a movie and it was embarrassing, Bog thought for the dozenth time. They should have all just worn their kilts and danced around like a bunch of fools he thought. His mother even had cranachan. He wanted to crawl into a hole and die of embarrassment. 

Bog’s father Boyd sat at the head of the table and smiled at Marianne who sat on his left. “So, yer dating my son, eh?” 

Bog winced as his father rolled his “r” hard. 

Marianne smiled and nodded. “I am.” 

Bog was impressed with how cool she was being with everyone staring at her. She had to know she was on trial...Bog hadn’t told her that, not wanting to scare her away...but.... 

His father picked up his glass and took a sip of the apple juice inside. “So, what is your family?” 

Marianne glanced at Bog in confusion. “My family?” 

Boyd nodded. “What is your last name?” 

“Summerfield,” Marianne said promptly. 

Boyd narrowed his eyes. “That isn’t a Scottish name is it?” He frowned in thought. “British? 

Marianne blushed. “I actually have no idea.” 

Boyd’s brows moved closer together in a frown. “You have no idea about your family background, your history?” 

Marianne frowned and shrugged. “Well, my grandparents on my father’s side live in California and my mom’s parents live in Illinois. Before that...ah...no, not really.” Boyd glanced at Griselda and made a motion with his head. His wife sighed and stood up going into the kitchen, coming back a few seconds later with a bottle of whiskey and a glass. Marianne heard the very slight groan escape Bog’s lips and his hand in hers tightened as his father filled the small shot glass that his wife had set in front of him. 

His Nanna motioned with her hand. “Far am bheil m.'” 

Griselda sighed once more and walked back into the kitchen to return with another glass. She grabbed the bottle and filled the small glass before she handed it to the older woman. 

“One, that’s all you get,” Griselda said sternly. 

Plum winced. “Griselda I don’t think…” 

Bog’s Nanna muttered. “Póg mo thóin.” 

Everyone but Marianne gasped and Griselda hissed. “Nanna watch yer tongue.” 

Nanna looked smug. 

Marianne leaned over to Bog. “What did she say?” 

Bog whispered back. “Kiss my ass.” 

Marianne snickered. Nanna grinned at Marianne and held her glass up in a salute and downed the amber liquid without batting an eye. 

Boyd sighed. “I don’t know how I feel about my boy going out with a lass who doesn’t know her family, and isn’t Scottish…” He shook his head. 

Marianne frowned then spoke, her voice low, calm, but with a rod of steel in it. “Well I don’t really think it matters what you think sir. It’s up to Bog.” 

There was a table wide gasp except for Nanna and Griselda who both snickered. Boyd looked shocked. 

“You got quite a tongue on you. You sure your people ain’t Scottish,” he asked. 

Marianne sighed. “I have no idea sir, but that shouldn’t matter. What matters is that I’m in love with your son and he is in love with me.” 

Marianne felt Bog’s hand spasm in hers, and his body stiffen beside her. She turned to share a look with him. They hadn’t yet said “I love you” to each other and this was not how Marianne had wanted to tell him, but circumstances called for a change in plan. She wasn’t going to let Bog’s family come between them. 

Boyd opened his mouth to say something else when Bog’s mother laughed. “Enough, you old coot.” She smiled at Bog and Marianne. “I like her. You are a very pretty girl and any woman who loves my son clearly shows intelligence and good taste no matter what her family is.” 

Boyd began to try again, but Nanna muttered. “Dùin do ghob.” 

Boyd gasped. “Mam!” 

Griselda snickered and Marianne looked confused. “What did she say this time?” 

Bog was chuckling too. “She told him to shut the fuck up.” 

Marianne had to cover her mouth in order not to burst out laughing. 

Griselda smiled. “Now Marianne, try some of my haggis. It’s a old family recipe.” 

* 

Bog drove Marianne home, parked in front of her apartment building and turned off the engine. 

“I’m really sorry tonight didn’t go as we planned.” 

Marianne smiled. “It’s fine. I enjoyed dinner.” 

“Really? Even after my father…?” Bog started, but Marianne squeezed his knee. 

“He loves you Bog, it's obvious. There is so much love in your family,” Marianne said softly. “Though I suppose this means it's time for you to meet my family.” 

“Really?” Bog asked. 

She nodded. “Really.” 

Bog smiled and reached over to caress her cheek. “I love you Marianne.” 

She leaned into his touch closing her eyes as Bog continued. “I had planned on telling you tonight during our date, but...I love you.” 

Marianne opened her eyes. “I love you too Bog.” 

Bog smiled and gently guided her face to his and kissed her. The kiss was soft and sweet. He rubbed his nose against hers when he pulled back and asked in a whisper. “Do you wanna come to my place tomorrow?” 

Marianne smiled. “I would love that.” 

Bog grinned with a blush. “Okay.” 

Marianne kissed him lightly. “But I would still like you to come up and see my apartment tonight...like we planned.” 

Bog stared at her and Marianne nodded ever so slightly which caused Bog’s eyes to widen more. “You...you mean?” Bog stuttered and Marianne caught his face between her hands. “I want you to stay the night.” 

Bog pressed his lips together looking unsure. “Are...are you…” 

Marianne pulled him into his kiss, a passionate kiss that made him groan and press against her. He reached up to hold her face gently with one hand. She pulled back and whispered. 

“I’m sure Bog. I want you in my bed tonight. I want to wake up in the morning with you beside me.” 

Bog smiled, his eyes twinkling behind his glasses. “A...All right Marianne. I would love to.” 

She grinned brightly and hopped out of the car. Bog hurried after her, locked the car and hurried around to take her hand. Bog looked up at her apartment building. 

“Ah...what about your sister? Isn’t she kitten sitting again?” he asked as Marianne began to tug him toward the front door. 

“Yes, but she has Imp at her place tonight since this had been my original plan for this evening.” Marianne grinned unlocking the door and pulled him into the stairwell. “So we are completely alone.” 

She pulled Bog up the stairs instead of taking the elevator. Bog needed no further prompting and they both ran up the stairs together laughing and making a lot of noise until she was tugging him off the landing onto her floor and leading him down the hallway. She unlocked the door to her apartment and shoved it open, then pulled Bog along with her. She hurriedly shut the door and locked it, dropped her purse and keys to the floor as she flipped on the light switch. 

Bog smiled gazing at her apartment. He was about to say something about how nice it was, when he turned around and almost didn’t catch Marianne when she threw herself into his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know Scottish Gaelic so I apologize for any mistakes.


	5. Sleep Over

Bog stumbled backwards into Marianne’s apartment. He held his petite girlfriend pressed against him, their lips locked until the back of his legs hit the arm of her couch, (he hoped to god that was what it was as he fell back) before he collapsed backwards and bounced slightly against the cushions of a piece of furniture. He opened his eyes once to confirm that he had indeed landed on a couch before he grinned happily and focused his complete attention on Marianne, her soft lips, hungry tongue and soft body pressed up against him. She squirmed a little which had Bog’s entire body on high alert as she adjusted her position on top of him, her hands coming up to cradle his head while her mouth assaulted his passionately. Bog groaned, the sound muted against her mouth. His tongue caressed hers while his hands slid up her back, then down again past her waist to her rear. He wrapped his hands around her rear and squeezed. He grinned, enjoying the way her ass fit perfectly in his hands. 

Marianne straddled Bog, her fingers in his hair as she attacked his mouth as if she were a woman dying of thirst and he was the only source of water. She made soft little sounds of want, tiny moans that alternated with little grunts as she pressed against him. She felt as if she simply couldn't get close enough to him. 

She rubbed her nose against his and whispered, “I love you.” 

Bog smiled against her mouth as he stared into her bright, brown eyes, his glasses slightly crooked between them. “I love you too Marianne.” 

She pushed herself up so she could look down at him. His glasses were sitting lopsidedly on his face, his hair was sticking up in all directions from her digging her fingers into it, the front of his shirt wrinkled and one button on his vest had come undone. She giggled as she rubbed the tip of her nose against his again and said softly, “Wanna see my bedroom?” 

Bog grinned. “I don’t think I have ever wanted to see a room more in my entire life.” 

Marianne giggled and rolled off of him. She reached out to take Bog’s hand and help him to his feet. 

He slid off her couch a little awkwardly since his long legs had been hanging over the arm of the couch, but he stood up and straightened his glasses, now really getting a look at her apartment. 

The living room had a large front window that looked out onto the street. The living room was nice and cozy with a beige couch, a couple of armchairs, a television, and several bookshelves lining the wall. There were a few pictures on the walls of her and her sister (Marianne had shown him pictures of her little sister and her husband), there was a simple wood coffee table littered with more books and soft grey carpet with cat toys lying here and there. The kitchen was just off the living room with a small wall dividing the two spaces. He could see a kitchen table with four chairs in that direction. 

Marianne took his hand and led him down a small hall where the bathroom was located and her bedroom. He was tugged into the room behind Marianne as she flipped on the light. 

Marianne’s bedroom had the same carpet as the rest of the apartment, but here she had an accent wall of soft lavender. Two lights were set into the wall on either side of her double bed casting a warm buttery glow. The bed was covered with a black and white bedspread and a purple and pink afghan at the foot of it with a couple of throw pillows--also in lavender--against the pillows. A small desk sat in a corner of the room with a laptop on it, more bookshelves sat against the walls, and a dresser with some little fairy figurines on the top of it rested against the wall. What struck Bog the most about the room was not the comfort of it--which he immediately loved--but the scent was a heavenly mix of her, lavender with a soft unidentifiable perfume that was all Marianne. 

She grinned blushing, suddenly a little shy as she let go of his hand. “So, what do you think?” 

Bog smiled. “It's lovely. I like it.” 

Marianne blushed. “I’m glad you…” 

She was suddenly cut off as Bog cupped her face stepping close to her. He gazed down at her. He smiled, his blue eyes sparkling softly in the room’s light behind his glasses just before he kissed her. The kiss was soft, tender, a kiss that made her knees wobbly and her body burn. She reached forward and grabbed the front of his pants and pulled him just a step closer which earned her a small grunt from him that made her smile. Her fingers moved up to work at the buttons of Bog’s vest while he slowly slid his hands from her face to the sides of her neck while his tongue moved slowly with hers, a deep caress that made her entire body vibrate. 

Marianne got his vest unbuttoned and pulled his shirt out from his slacks. Her fingers moved up and Bog stopped kissing her, taking just enough of a step back for her to start with his top button and work her way down, undoing each button while they looked at each other. 

Marianne swallowed, his gaze was so...hot. It was the only word she could think of to describe the way he was watching her as she worked each button through the hold until his shirt fell open. She swallowed once more looking as his naked chest and stomach, the tight, slender muscles. Bog had a lean body with natural definition. She licked her lips and reached up, pulling the shirt down off of his shoulders and slowly off his arms. Bog pulled his arms free from his shirt and Marianne let it fall to the floor. 

Her fingers skimmed up his arms and over his shoulders to his chest. She smiled pressing her teeth into her bottom lip as she lightly dragged her fingers over his chest and along his stomach, the skin soft and warm. She smiled more watching as Bog’s body twitched at her touch. 

Bog made a small sound and her touch sent goosebumps racing over his skin, his eyes fluttered for a moment behind his glasses. He smiled down at her and turned her around. 

Marianne smiled, her brown eyes on his blue was as he turned her back to him. He laid one hand on her shoulder while with the other he gently grasped the dress zipper, then slowly dragged it down, the fabric of her dress parting to show him more of her pale skin, her shoulders, the enticing curve of her spine, the back band of her dark purple bra. Then as he dragged the zipper lower, he saw the lace of her panties. His heart was hammering harder in his chest as he reached the end of the zipper. He slowly reached up, and with both hands slid the dress down her shoulders. 

Marianne moved away from him just enough to step out of the dress. She kept her back to him as he reached down to slip out of her shoes. 

Bog kicked his own shoes off swiftly before he stepped up behind her, his fingers dragged up the front of her hips, then her sides. 

Marianne closed her eyes with a sigh, his touch was sweet yet electric. 

Bog swallowed and reached behind her to gently unhook her bra. He reached up and slowly slid the bands down her arms, leaning forward to kiss her t, just behind her ear, then her shoulder as the bra slid down her arms and fell to the floor. She turned around to face him and Bog sucked in his breath. She was so beautiful, he thought, just so damn beautiful. Her breasts were perfect, small, with sweet, rosy pink nipples that he was dying to cover with his mouth. His groin ached as he looked at her, the soft, rounded curve of her breasts, her hips, the pink of her nipples, the way her panties pressed against her stomach. He wanted her so badly, he loved her so much and he was about to tell her that when Marianne stepped closer taking a hold of his slacks. 

She leaned in and kissed him, her mouth moving gently over his while she unbuttoned his slacks, then slowly pulled the zipper down. She grabbed the sides of his slacks along with his boxers and pulled everything down slowly. 

Bog’s body went stiff when she pulled his slacks and boxers down. He was waiting for her to...he didn’t know--be disappointed? But instead of what he was fearing, Marianne lightly stroked her fingers along his erection while at the same time leaning in and up on her toes to kiss him. Bog groaned, one hand sliding into her hair while he wrapped his other hand around her waist and pulled her closer. 

They kissed deeply, tongues and lips pressed together hard while Marianne’s touch became bolder. He felt like satin under her hand when she stroked him; hard, hot, and velvety. Marianne’s want grew, becoming a raging fire. She loved the V-cut of his torso, the way his stomach narrowed to his hips, his groin, the way his erection curved just slightly, the way he felt in her hand. She felt a tightening in her groin, and ache. She was so in love and lust for Bog. She smiled with happiness at the same time as she wrapped her hand around him and gave him a firm, but gentle stroke 

Bog grunted and dropped his hands to hook his thumbs into the sides of her panties and began the slow tug downward on the sides. Marianne stopped stroking him to allow Bog to pull her panties down. His eyes met hers as he slid them down, stooping into a crouch to allow her to step out of them. Once he had the panties to her calves he gazed at her, taking in all of her. She wasn’t shaved completely, but had a patch of curling hair between her legs that immediately made Bog want to run his fingers through it. His breathing picked up slightly as he looked at her, his gaze roaming up her body and then he smiled. 

She blushed, now completely naked. She didn’t realize that she was just as nervous that Bog would be disappointed in how she looked as he was worried she would be disappointed in him but Bog wrapped his hands around her hips and pressed his lips first to her groin, which made her giggle nervously, then another kiss on her stomach, then between her breasts before he finally stood and kissed her on her lips. 

Marianne moaned and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Bog wrapped his arms around her then surprised her as he suddenly lifted her up as if she weighed nothing at all and into his arms bridal style. 

Marianne squealed. “Bog!” 

He laughed and walked over to the bed with her. 

“Hold on for a minute,” he said with a grin as he balanced her while at the same time he leaned down to pull the covers of the bed back before he laid her down on the bed. 

She giggled holding on to his shoulders continuing to kiss him as he crawled onto the bed with her. 

They slid under the covers, continuing to kiss, unwilling to stop. Marianne smiled against his lips as she plucked his glasses off his nose and reached behind her blindly until she felt the bedside table and could safely deposit his glasses on the surface of the table without fear of dropping them to the floor. 

Their naked bodies rubbed against each other, the silk of their skin sliding together evoking gasps and moans. Bog rolled on top of her and her legs parted naturally to let him rest between them. She moaned softly, feeling his erection brush against her sex, making the ache in her groin intensify. 

Bog hissed softly; he could feel the damp heat between her legs, which made his erection pulse with the need to be inside her. He struggled for only a moment against his baser urges and instead focused his attentions on the press of her breasts against his chest, the way she fit so perfectly under him and how he wanted to make her feel. It was easier to focus on her needs instead of his own. He loved her so much he wanted to make her feel good, wanted her to know how much he loved her. 

Bog’s mouth moved from hers, his tongue tracing a wet line down her neck and to her collarbone. He nibbled the tender skin there as Marianne arched her neck while her hands tracing the muscles of his shoulders, her eyes closed as she enjoyed the feel of his soft lips on her skin. 

Bog moved lower, his lips brushed over the top of her breasts. He wrapped one hand around her right breast while his lips brushed tenderly over the nipple of her left. She reacted with a moan, her back arching slightly. Bog smiled and licked her nipple; feeling the hard bud against his tongue sent shivers up his spine. He wrapped his mouth around her nipple, squeezing her other breast gently. He cupped her breast, his thumb brushing over the nipple while at the same time Bog sucked her other nipple into his mouth, taking his time to enjoy the way her skin tasted or the way her breasts felt both in his mouth and in his hands, but it was the little gasp of pleasure she made, the way 

Marianne responded by grabbing his hair, her body writhing under him as he continued his attentions to her breasts, that made him smile. 

Marianne moaned, a flash of warmth rolled over her where he touched her. His tongue, his lips were so sweet, so tender and she wanted him so badly, the ache in her groin was nearly unbearable. She could feel his erection, hot against her thigh when he shifted his hips. She brought one of her legs up to caress the back of his leg, her hands stroking his hair as he continued to lick and suck at her breasts. Bog’s fingers brushed against her nipples softly when his lips weren't on them. That warm tickle was building, she could feel it, that tense tightening in her groin, that delicious ache of need. She started to pant and her mind began to go a little fuzzy. She could tell she was going to orgasm, that Bog was going to make her cum...for just a moment she was amazed he was going to do that to her by just playing with her nipples, but damn it he was and oh my god she couldn’t think straight...her fingers tightened in his hair. 

“Oh Bog...oh...Bog…” she gasped breathless. 

Bog smiled at Marianne’s reaction to his attentions, but didn’t stop. He continued his tender assault until Marianne squeaked, which surprised him, but the squeak was quickly followed by her low groan and her body tensing, then quickly turning to jelly as she cried out. 

Bog grinned as he moved back up to kiss her. 

Marianne grabbed his hair with both hands again, kissing him hard. 

She pulled away and gasped. “You are...wow.” 

Bog smiled. “I’m glad you enjoyed that.” 

Marianne blushed and giggled. “Come here…” 

Bog’s brow creased in concern. “Ah...I’m not sure I have a condom...I haven’t carried one in forever so I’m not…” 

Marianne pressed her finger to his lips. “I’m on the pill.” 

He smiled a little. “Ah...you sure?” 

“Sure if I’m on the pill? Ah, yeah.” Marianne frowned at him. 

Bog laughed. “No I mean I haven’t been with anyone in forever...” 

Marianne kissed him. Bog melted against her, then she pulled away just enough to whisper. “Enough talk Bog.” 

Bog nodded. “Okay.” 

She stroked the back of his leg with her foot. Bog reached behind him to stroke her thigh kissing her and leaning into her body. His erection rubbed against her, feeling her wet between her legs. He let go of her thigh to reach between them and grasp himself, then he rubbed the head of his shaft against her. That was almost too much. He groaned, feeling how warm and inviting she was...wanting to simply push himself into her, but he waited, very slowly, gently, rubbing himself against her, back and forth very slowly. 

Marianne groaned. “Bog, I want you…” 

Bog smiled. “I want you too Marianne...I love you so much.” 

Marianne caressed his face. “I love you so much too Bog.” 

He pressed himself against, her, let go and slid the rest of the way inside her with a groan that came from deep within. 

Marianne arched her body, her fingers pressed against his shoulders as he entered her, stretching and filling her. She gasped before she wrapped her legs around his waist. Bog groaned and moved slowly, held himself on his elbows and thrust in slow, deep rolls of his hips while kissing her face at the same time, her lips, her cheeks, her eyes. He continued to move slowly, wanting to last as long as he could, feeling that warm wetness of her body tight around him, holding him inside her... 

Marianne gasped, then panted while she thrust her hips up to meet the rolls of his. She stroked his hair back smiling looking into his blue eyes and returning his kisses with ones of her own. Her hands glided over his shoulders and down his arms, feeling the flex of his muscles as he moved. She slid her hands down his sides then around to grab his rear as she raised her legs up, squeezing his ass as she thrust her hips. 

Bog laid his cheek against hers, rolling his hips, moving in and out of her. He tried not to move quickly, but holding back such ecstasy was difficult; she was getting wetter and he was coming closer. 

Marianne arched her head back, her hands moved up his back once more until she grabbed his shoulders and groaned. “Harder Bog...faster...please.” 

Bog’s eyes fluttered as he grunted. “Marianne...I love you...Uh...always.” 

He thrust harder, faster, . 

Marianne hissed. “Oh Bog...I love you--yes!” 

She came then, her fingers pressed into his shoulders and her body rose up to met him. Her climax was building to greater heights when suddenly her body tensed and burst, pleasure rolling through her in waves. She screamed out her climax and clung to Bog, gasping and struggling to catch her breath as he continued to thrust harder, faster, sending waves of pleasure through her until she thought she was going to collapse. She felt Bog grow inside her, that moment where he was so big she thought he might be too much, and then he came, releasing into her and sending her fumbling over the edge into another orgasm that simply caused her brain to bliss out for a moment. She heard him cry out loudly against the side of her neck and never had she heard a sexier sound than Bog’s climax with her. 

He drove her into the bed for a few more intense, delightful seconds before he collapsed on top of her. 

They were both panting, struggling to normalize their breathing together. Marianne sported a goofy grin while she stroked Bog’s hair and shoulders. 

She sighed. “Wow.” 

Bog chuckled, his head resting beside hers. She could feel the tickle of his breath against her ear. “That was okay?” Bog asked. 

Marianne made a noise and turned to look at him. “Okay? Okay? That was fantastic!” 

Bog grinned, his cheeks red and his eyes bright--the blue seemed to almost glow, but he was clearly pleased with himself. “Really?” 

Marianne giggled. “Really.” 

Bog whispered. “You were pretty fantastic too.” 

She laughed. “I just laid here.” 

Bog snorted then sighed and murmured reluctantly. “I better move. Don’t want to squish you.” 

“Mm...I like you squishing me.” Marianne waggled her eyebrows. 

Bog laughed, then pulled out slowly. Both of them groaned softly as their bodies disconnected. Bog flopped onto his back with a sigh and pulled her into the crook of his arm. 

Marianne wrapped her arm around him and snuggled close with a happy, contented sigh. They both laid there completely relaxed, happy, when Marianne whispered. “Wanna go again?” 

Bog laughed. “You betcha.” 

* 

The next morning, wearing only his boxers and his shirt from the night before, unbuttoned, his hair damp from their almost hour and a half shower (which had turned cold near the end) sat at her kitchen table sipping his coffee while Marianne made scrambled eggs in her panties and a t-shirt. He was watching her with a grin when she asked. 

“So, how would you feel about having dinner with my family this weekend?” 

Bog pushed his glasses up. “I would love to.” 

She looked over her shoulder at him with a grin. “Really?” 

Bog nodded. “Yes! You went through dinner with my family, seems fair, so why not?” 

Marianne smiled happily. 

* 

The Summerfield family home was vastly different than the King family home. The house was modest, but still clearly spoke of money, a ranch-style home with perfectly cut grass, perfectly kept flower beds and perfectly shaped shrubbery. There were no flags to be seen anywhere, nothing to show that this home was any different from any of the other houses on this block. 

Bog swallowed hard. He was dressed in black slacks, a dark blue dress shirt with a black blazer, but he felt as if he were wearing armor or something else just as inflexible, uncomfortable and hot. Marianne looked beautiful in a light sleeveless lavender sundress with lace over the top and a pair of ballet slipper flats. She was holding Bog’s hand and she could feel how nervous he was by how sweaty his palm was in her hand. 

They stood in front of the dark red front door. Marianne was about to ring the bell when she stopped to look at Bog. “Hey, don’t worry--they are going to love you.” She smiled up at him and brought his hand up to kiss his knuckles. 

Bog frowned. “You sure?” 

She smiled up at him. “I love you. I know they will love you too.” 

Bog smiled down at her. “I love you so much,” he said softly and gave her hand a squeeze. 

Marianne stood on her toes and kissed him just as the front door opened. 

Her little sister, Dawn, squealed. “I thought I heard a car!” 

Bog turned just in time as the small woman slammed into him, knocking his hand out of Marianne’s and hugged him, squeezing the air right out of his lungs. For a petite little woman she was surprisingly strong. 

“It’s so nice to finally meet you!” She squealed and looked up at him, her chest against his chest. 

Bog smiled awkwardly down at her. “It's nice to meet you too.” 

She took a step back. “I’m Dawn. Come on in and OMG. You do have an accent! Marianne said you did, but wow!” 

She grabbed his hand and practically hauled him over the threshold. 

* 

The inside of the Summerfield family home was just as organized, tasteful and sedate as the outside, with dark hardwood floors, evergreen painted walls, everything organized, and stylized with the look of comfort and sophistication. Bog noted the difference immediately; his family home looked like barely organized chaos whereas the Summerfield house looked like it was taken from the pages of a magazine. 

Dawn, wearing a pair of white trouser shorts and a bright yellow blouse with sandals--which to Bog’s mind made her look like a piece of sunshine given human form--continued to drag Bog by the hand and hauled him into the living room while yelling. 

“Hey guys, Bog’s here!” 

Marianne shook her head and laughed. Bog had his Nanna, she had her sister. 

Dawn dragged Bog into the living room where her husband and parents were all sitting. Everyone stood up when she came to a stop still holding Bog’s hand. Bog felt like a giant, as he stood head and shoulders above everyone in the room. 

Dawn grinned. “Bog, this is my dad Dan, my mother Lily and my husband Sunny. Everyone, Bog!” 

Bog grimaced then awkwardly waved. “Ah...hi?


	6. My Luve

Bog licked his lips and pushed his glasses up his nose as he glanced sideways at Marianne, who smiled at him while looking every bit as uncomfortable as he felt. The six of them all sat around the dinner table, plates filled with mash potatoes covered in melted butter and gravy, steaming green beans, and large slices of meatloaf topped with ketchup and cheese along with fluffy white rolls. Marianne and Bog sat directly across the table from her parents with Sunny and Dawn sharing the left end of the table. Bog’s only wish was that there was beer, ale or whiskey available, because he certainly felt like a bug under glass and a buzz of alcohol might have calmed his racing nerves. It didn’t help that Marianne’s mother gave him a pleasant smile, but her father was openly glaring at Bog as he stuffed large bites of meatloaf into his mouth. 

Her father Dan looked across the table at Bog and muttered. “What kind of name is Bog anyway?” 

Marianne made a small angry gasp, but before Bog could answer her father, Marianne’s mother spoke up. 

Lily put her elbows on the table, laced her fingers together, rested her chin on her fingers, and leaned forward. “So, Bog--Marianne tells me your family is Scottish?” 

Bog nodded, he didn’t mean to do it, but his accent slipped in much thicker than usual, as if her bringing up the fact he was Scottish triggered him becoming ultra Scottish. “Aye.” 

Lily’s smile brightened. Marianne’s mother was a lovely woman, he could see where both her daughters took after her; she pleasant, sleek features and large brown eyes. Unlike both her daughters who had short hair, Lily’s hair brushed her shoulders and was styled just perfectly. She was a beautiful woman and was probably a reflection of what Marianne would look like at her mother’s age. 

Lily continued. “I know this is going to sound so typical suburban mother of me, but I just love your accent Bog. I read all these romance novels with Scottish heroes in kilts...it's all so dashing.” Her cheeks reddened and she grinned. “Do you have a kilt Bog?” 

Marianne nearly groaned out loud and the tips of her ears burned. “Mother I…” 

Bog blushed, but nodded. “I do actually.” 

Marianne turned to look at Bog with a startled grin. “You do?” 

Bog blushed. “Aye, that I do.” 

Lily giggled. “Oh Marianne you are going to have to get him to wear it. So what do you do Bog?” 

“Ah, I’m taking classes right now and I work at my aunt’s travel agency and I ah, play piano at my family’s restaurant.” 

That was the moment her father, taking a sip of his iced tea cleared his throat. “My daughter was dating a very nice young man before you...Bog....” He managed to say Bog’s name with both derision and disgust. “They were engaged to be married actually.” 

Marianne snorted. “Roland was not nice Daddy; he was arrogant, conceited, shallow, ambitious in all the wrong ways, a chattering pig son-of-...” Bog was startled by Marianne’s sudden outburst, but he put a hand on her knee under the table when he realized she wasn’t just annoyed, but downright angry. Marianne glanced at Bog with a soft, thankful smile, placed her hand over his on her knee before she continued. “He only loved two things Daddy, his hair and himself.” 

Marianne folded her arms across her chest and glared across the table at her father. “He also cheated on me.” 

Bog pressed his lips together. He had known about Roland only as an ex-boyfriend she hated. He didn’t know that she had been engaged to him--though judging by the look on Marianne’s face, discussing that part of her relationship with Roland was a very sore spot for her. He would talk to her about it later if she felt like it, though he didn’t feel betrayed at all. He understood. He had only touched on Anabel and her betrayal, not going into detail about how Anabel had tore him apart and left him thinking he was too horrible, too ugly...too hideous for someone to ever love. He was so damn happy with Marianne that he he still hadn’t discussed Anabel in more detail simply because it was like discussing Voldemort. Part of him was scared if he said her name too often the witch would swoop in and destroy his happiness. And now it seemed Marianne had a Voldemort too...maybe it was time they both got their dark lords out in the open and took the power away from both of those people to hurt them. 

Marianne glanced at Bog, clearly upset and maybe just a little scared that Bog would be upset with her for not telling him all the gory details about her relationship with Roland; he could see it in her brown eyes, the fear and pain. He squeezed her knee and smiled at her. Marianne’s look of pleased relief made him want to wrap her into his arms and never let her go, to tell her exactly how much he loved her and that he would never hurt her or hold past issues against her. 

Marianne’s father frowned. “Well Roland was exceptionally handsome and romantic.” 

Bog, his hand still on Marianne’s knee, felt Marianne shift in such a way that he was afraid she was going to launch herself over the table at her father. 

“Daddy…” Marianne’s voice held a threat that her father didn’t seem to hear. 

Lily made a face at her husband and smacked him on the shoulder. “Dan--that’s enough.” 

Dawn and Sunny shared an uncomfortable look while Marianne’s father picked up his tea and drank, looking a bit like a petulant child. 

Lily smiled and turned her attention back to Bog. “So, Bog--that’s an unusual name.” 

“Ah, yes my parents wanted traditional Scottish names. My brothers are Bruce and William Wallace except I’m actually named after the Claish Moss in the Loch Shiel in the Sunart district. Apparently my parents had a very good time there because me Mam said that looking over that bloody bog was how she…” His voice trailed off, his mouth hanging open as his cheeks burned bright red, Marianne’s mother stared expectantly at him before Bog snapped his mouth shut. Marianne blushed, she had heard this story before...about Bog’s conception... 

Lily’s cheeks turned red, but her smile was sweet and amused. “Why don’t I go put some coffee on?” 

Bog smiled. “Aye, Mrs. Summerfield. That would be nice.” 

She stood up and went to the kitchen. 

Marianne’s father frowned. “So what’s your last name again?” 

“King,” Bog said. 

Her father frowned. “Doesn’t sound very Scottish. Shouldn't you have a Mc or a goole or something on the end?” 

“DADDY!” Marianne gasped. 

“What?” her father looked confused. ‘What’d I say?” 

But Bog chuckled just a little. “The name was originally Kyngshorne. It’s an old name in Scotland dating back to the 11th century. We shortened it to King just to be a little more forward and American. We all don’t have surnames that begin with Mc.” 

Her father stuck his bottom lip out in thought then. “I had a secretary once, I think she was Scottish...her last name was...Griffiths I think…” 

Bog said softly with a quick glance at Marianne. “No, that’s Welsh.” 

Dan frowned. “Is that in Scotland?” 

Bog gave a slow blink before he said softly. “Ah...no.” 

“Are you sure?” Dan asked as Lily came back into the room with a pot of fresh coffee. “Marianne hon could you help me with the cheesecake in the fridge and Dawn, Sunny could you two help clear the dinner dishes.” 

Bog stood up. “I would like to help.” 

Lily smiled. “Oh I couldn’t, you’re a guest!” 

Bog smiled. “My Mam would have a fit if she knew I didn’t help clean up.” 

Lily smiled. “Well, I’d never wish to upset another mother.” 

Bog smiled and nodded as he began to pick up dishes. 

Dawn smiled. “I’ll get the cheesecake Mom and Sunny can get the dessert dishes.” 

“Thanks sweetheart.” 

Marianne hurried to walk beside Bog into the kitchen carrying a few dishes herself. “I’m so sorry about my Dad.” 

Bog shook his head. “It’s fine.” 

She frowned and he bumped her with his hip as he made his way to the sink and began rinsing off the dishes before placing them into the dishwasher.. He could hear Dawn at the refrigerator getting out the dessert while Sunny pulled down the dessert dishes. Marianne came up beside him placing her dishes on the counter next to him. She looked miserable. 

He gave Marianne another smile. “I promise, it's fine. Though...Roland…” 

Marianne sighed. She began automatically taking the dishes from Bog as he rinsed them off and placed them into the dishwasher. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I was engaged to him, or that he cheated on me...I just...I don’t want that part of my life messing up this...what we have. Are you mad?” 

Bog smiled. “Nope, it’s fine. I understand. I didn’t tell you everything that Anabel did to me either. It feels like if I talk about her too much then I give her power and it took me a long time to get past that, past her.” 

Marianne nodded. “Yeah, same with Roland.” 

They stood by the sink and shared a look. Marianne’s eyes looked so big he thought, big and beautiful and filled with love. 

“I love you,” he said softly. 

Marianne’s cheeks turned red as she whispered in return. “I love you too.” 

Dawn sighed. “You two are so sweet.” 

Marianne turned and with reflexes born of being a big sister, threw a dishrag at her sister. The slightly damp cloth caught Dawn in the face. 

“Yowch!! Marianne!!” Dawn squealed. 

Sunny began to laugh. 

Lily stuck her head into the kitchen with a smile. She saw the four of them laughing and her heart did a little skip...she had one daughter married, maybe one more wasn’t too far off… 

* 

The rest of dinner went as well as could be expected Marianne thought, with her father asking embarrassing, ill informed questions about Scotland and Scottish people, doing his best to--she didn’t know--sabotage her relationship with Bog? She had no idea what her Dad was up to, but her mother kept getting after him until Marianne about ready to hide under the table. She should have known better, since her Dad had always liked Roland and when she broke off the engagement she thought her Dad was more broken up about it than she had been. She should have known he would compare Bog to Roland. But she had hoped maybe...at least her mother seemed to accept and like her boyfriend. 

* 

They returned to Marianne’s apartment later that evening and after a warm shower and some very intense love making, they had cuddled up in Marianne’s bed. Marianne laid on her back naked, one arm behind her head while Bog lay between her legs with his cheek against her stomach. He gave her a slightly lopsided grin and his blue eyes had a warm sparkle in them as he gazed up at her. She was slowly running her fingers through his thick black hair, watching as she pulled her fingers through it, the thick strands falling back with some falling over his brow making him look younger. His glasses were perched on the end of his nose making him resemble a rather sexy professor, she noted with a grin. She giggled and pushed his glasses up his nose before she caressed his face. 

Bog kissed her stomach, planting soft kisses against her skin, moving a little lower, his lips brushing the hair at her groin which caused heat to ripple through her. He eased back up and rubbed his nose against her stomach before he spoke softly. 

“I love you, I love you so much Marianne.” His voice was gentle, his accent slightly thicker than usual as he spoke. 

Marianne smiled and caressed his face. “I love you too Bog, with all my heart.” 

Bog stared at her then spoke softly. “I don’t know how to do this, but…” 

Marianne frowned pushing herself up on her elbows. “Bog?” 

He smiled. “Would you marry me?” 

Marianne stared at him for a heartbeat as her mind struggled to understand his words. “What?” 

Bog blushed. “I know this isn’t the most romantic time and ah…” 

He leaned over the side of the bed looking for his pants. Marianne watched him with a stunned expression as he pulled something out of his pants pocket before he sat back up on his knees, a ring box in his hands. She stared at him as he kneeld on the bed, naked and incredibly handsome as he opened a small ring box. Inside on a blue velvet bed sat a European cut diamond ring in a platinum and gold setting resembling small gold leaves that surrounded the diamond. 

Bog blushed holding the box. “It was my great grandmother's ring and…” 

Marianne squealed as one hand flew to her chest, palm held just below the hollow of her throat. “YES!! YES!! I’ll marry you!” 

Bog laughed. “Really?” 

Marianne nodded vigorously. “Yes, yes!” 

Bog grinned as he withdrew the ring from the box. Marianne put her hand out and Bog slid the ring onto her finger. He swallowed and spoke softly as he placed the ring on her finger. 

“O my luve is like a red, red rose, 

That's newly sprung in June: 

O my luve is like the melodie, 

That's sweetly played in tune. 

As fair art thou, my bonie lass, 

So deep in luve am I; 

And I will luve thee still, my dear, 

Till a' the seas gang dry. 

Till a' the seas gang dry, my dear, 

And the rocks melt wi' the sun; 

And I will luve thee still my dear, 

While the sands o' life shall run. 

And fare thee weel, my only luve! 

And fare thee weel a while! 

And I will come again, my luve, 

Tho' it were ten thousand mile.” 

* 

Marianne’s lips were trembling as he finished the poem. 

Bog smiled with a healthy blush on his face, gazing down at the ring on her finger and shrugged. “Robert Burns…I didn’t think I would remember the whole poem though I’ve been pract...” 

She threw her arms around him and kissed him. Bog’s eyes widened in surprise when Marianne’s attack knocked his glasses sideways, but he quickly melted into her embrace. 

Marianne pulled him down onto the bed. She kissed him passionately, her mouth moved over his, her tongue sliding along his tongue, her legs wrapped around him. Bog made a soft groan against her lips. He cradled the top of her head with one hand while the other hand stroked down her side, his long fingers leaving tingling trails of pleasure along her skin. 

Marianne growled playfully and forced him over onto his back. She sat up with a smile holding her hand out and admiring the ring. 

“Oh Bog, it’s so beautiful.” Her voice was hushed as she gazed at her ring. 

Bog grinned watching her, naked, sitting on top of him with her brown hair slightly messed up...and the ring he had given to her prominent on her finger. He knew at that moment he had never seen anything more beautiful than Marianne wearing his ring. 

She grinned down at him and whispered. “Mrs. King.” 

Bog laughed stroking her legs as he spoke. “I like the sound of that.” 

She giggled. “Me too.” 

She dropped down on her elbows and kissed him again, this time slower, letting the warm liquid feel of her desire for Bog build. Her skin and body laying against him burned exquisitely. She dragged her tongue from his lips to his jaw and along his throat. 

Bog groaned arching his head back to expose more of his neck to her. 

Marianne purred. “My husband...that sounds so damn sexy Bog.” 

Bog grinned pulling his glasses off and dropped them onto the bedside table. “My wife...Mrs. Marianne Summerfield-King.” 

She stopped her nibbling of his ear. “What did you say?” 

Bog turned his head to look at her. “Mrs. Marianne Summerfield-King.” 

She grinned. “You just assumed I would hyphenate my name?” 

Bog looked confused, not sure if he had done something wrong or not. “Ah...yes?” 

Marianne sighed softly. “You are the best man in the whole world Bog King.” 

Bog blushed pressing his lips together. “I don’t know about that, but I love you completely.” 

She purred. “I love you completely.” 

She kissed him again before she pushed herself down, sliding along his body and peppering his torso with light kisses that she alternated with gentle licks. 

Bog groaned, then gasped in surprise when her tongue slowly licked the length of his quickly hardening erection. Bog looked down, grabbing the sheet that Marianne had thrown over her head when she slid down; he lifted it up to look at her. 

She wrapped her hand around his shaft grinning mischievously. 

“Marianne wha…” Bog began, but she licked him and all coherent thought fled out the window. 

Bog knew what oral sex was, but he had never in his life experienced it until that moment when his new fiancee licked him again before she wrapped her lips around him and slowly lowered her mouth down on him. He jerked and hissed in shocked, pleasant surprise. 

Marianne smiled. Roland had always tried to get her to do this, but she had never been interested--not until this moment. She wanted to try everything with Bog, everything and anything. She rolled her wet tongue over his erection, sliding back and forth along the sensitive underside of his penis before she bobbed her head slowly, feeling the smooth satin texture of his hard erection against her lips and tongue. She loved how soft and satiny he felt while at the same time he was hard, thick, hot...she moaned softly against him, squeezing her legs together as her body responded. She slowly rolled her tongue, pulling her lips up to the head of his shaft where she kissed him, her tongue sliding over the smooth head of his erection before she traced her lips with him. That caused Bog to groan loudly and boy, did she like the sound of him moaning because of her! 

Marianne was happy that she had said no to Roland all those times he had tried to get her to do this...because doing this for Bog was amazing. This was another level of intimacy between them that deepened her feelings, yet another way of showing him just how much she loved him. It wasn’t just that sucking and licking on him, listening to his gasping cries that made her feel powerful...it did, but hearing Bog’s gasps and groans, being this close to him, pleasuring him, excited her, made her body ache in the most pleasing of ways. She cupped his scrotum, feeling the warm weight of him in her hand, at the same time she took as much of his erection into her mouth as she could and was rewarded by a deep shudder that ran through Bog’s body. 

He reached down to caress her hair looking down the length of his body at her just at the moment that Marianne looked up, their eyes meeting. He watched as she rolled her tongue over the head of his erection. She did it slowly, smiling at him. 

Bog cried out dropping his head back with a loud groan. “Oh god Marianne, stop!! I...you better...ungh, stop please…” 

Marianne grinned with delight and bobbed her head a few more times delighting in the whole body shudder that she caused in Bog before she finally came up again. She moved up his body to straddle his hips, reaching down between them, holding him steady and immediately pierced herself on him, both of them crying out together. She moaned, that inner ache exploding into bursts of pleasure at feeling of him stretching her, his erection buried deep inside her. Marianne tightened her body around him, arching as she raised herself up slowly, then slid down again feeling that pull of her body against his followed by the deep warmth of him filling her. She pressed her teeth into her bottom lip, her eyes rolled. 

“Oh Bog…” Marianne groaned and pressed her fingers into his chest. “Uh god…” Her back arched, her inner muscles squeezed tightly. “Uh...oh...Bog…” 

Bog moaned deeply, his hands stroked her thighs shivering as she moved on him. “Marianne...” 

Bog settled his hands on her thighs, then glided his fingers up her sides as Marianne arched her back and began a slow, sensual grind. Bog gasped, grabbing her hips and held on tightly watching her move, then slowly pull back followed by her pressing down on him. She reached behind her and grabbed his knees, her body arching gracefully backwards. He could see himself disappearing into her, covered in her fluids, slick and glistening. He hissed, his eyes rolling as he struggled to hold back his climax, but she was making it entirely too difficult. She thrust her hips forward and Bog squeezed his fingers into her soft flesh, for a moment worried he would leave marks on her while she continued her slow, mind blasting grind. 

Bog bent his knees and gave a little thrust back at her. Marianne shuddered in delight. 

“Oh…” she gasped. 

She felt a slow yet powerful ripple begin in her groin. Bog’s hands rose up to grab her breasts and his thumbs dragged across her nipples. Marianne gasped as electricity raced down her body from his touch. She moved a little faster and the ripple accelerated, then as her entire body tightened, the ripple burst and broke into a wave over and throughout her body. Marianne gasped, squeezing him at the same time that she climaxed. Bog watched her, felt her. He was so in love with her, with everything about her. When she orgasmed Bog groaned and his body seemed to snap. He cried out at the same time as his fiancee and reached for her, pulling her close to him to kiss her. 

They kissed letting their shared orgasm peak and ebb more than once before Marianne collapsed against him. She laid on his chest, their bodies still connected before she giggled softly. 

Bog stroked his fingers lazily along her back, and shoulders, a smile on his lips, completely spent for a second time tonight. 

“What’s so funny?” he asked lazily, sleep threatening to take over, but he knew he still needed to drive home. He had driven over to Marianne’s and then they had gone in her car over to her parents. He really would have loved to spend the night, to hold her all night long, her body against his, listening to her breathe...but she had classes to teach and he had classes to get to...but mostly it was because he knew his mother would be waiting up and would have all the police in the department out looking for him if he didn’t come home. 

“I was just thinking, that was our first time as an engaged couple,” Marianne said softly. He smiled feeling the warmth of her breath against his chest. 

Bog chuckled. “I guess it is.” 

Marianne pushed up, her hands on either side of his head grinning down at him. “We’re going to get married.” 

Bog smiled back. “We’re getting married.” 

She squealed and kissed him. 

* 

Bog arrived home just as the sun was coming up. He yawned, clambering out of his car only stumbling a little. His shirt stayed on by virtue of only two buttons, untucked, he had his jacket in his hand along with his shoes as he was only in his socks. He and Marianne had snuggled until they both fell asleep, Bog woke in a panic at five a.m. Getting out her door had taken another half hour before he had finally made it to his car. He thought he might be able to catch another hour of sleep before he needed to start getting ready for the day, but he didn’t really care. He was happy. He could not recall another time in his life when he had ever been this happy. 

He was smiling from ear to ear and had just put his foot on the stairs leading up to his apartment when he heard someone clear their throat. Bog winced and turned, expecting to see his mother, but instead it was his father standing there in his plaid bathrobe and slippers. 

“I don’t know Bog, coming back home when the sun is coming up.” His father shook his head. 

Bog’s mouth opened and closed for a moment. He wanted to protest that he was a grown ass man and could do what he wanted, but his father always brought out the little boy who felt guilty for having disappointed his Da in some way… 

His father laughed. “Yer face. Come in the kitchen for a moment Bog, I want to talk.” 

Bog looked slightly stunned, but followed his father inside. 

* 

His father pointed at the kitchen table. “Take a seat boy.” 

Bog did as he was told, tossing his jacket over the back of the chair, setting his shoes under the table. He watched as his father pulled open one of the cabinets and reached in coming out with a green bottle of Laphroaig and grabbed two glasses. He came back and set one glass in front of Bog and then took a seat, placed the other glass down in front of him. Bog frowned thinking it was a bit early to be drinking, but he wasn’t going to argue with his father. Boyd opened the bottle and poured the drink into the glasses filling them about half full. He set the bottle down on the table and picked up his glass. 

“So tell me lad, how serious is this thing you got with Marianne?” His father asked taking a sip of the drink. 

Bog frowned looking at the glass of amber liquid before he picked it up and took a sip. It burned only slightly; the taste was smoky and sweet all at once. He swallowed then said softly. 

“I asked her to marry me Da.” 

Boyd blinked. “Ye did what?” 

“I asked her to marry me,” Bog repeated taking another sip. “And she said yes.” 

That was when both men heard a loud squeal of excitement. Bog turned at the sound only to catch a glimpse of his mother as she came rushing into the kitchen wearing a pink bathrobe and slippers before she slammed into him, almost causing Bog to drop his drink and the chair to tilt dangerously back. 

“She said yes!! My little bug is getting MARRIED!!” Griselda hugged her son so tightly that Bog was sure she was going to choke the life right out of him. 

“Mam!! Mam!! I can’t breathe!” Bog groaned glancing over at his father for help. His father just downed his scotch and poured himself another. 

Griselda finally let go of her youngest boy, her hands on his shoulders. “Oh sweetheart, I’m so happy!” 

Bog blushed. “Me too Mam. I...I ah, used great Nanna’s ring.” 

His father grunted. “I don’t know...marrying some English girl.” 

“She isn’t English Da, she’s American.” Bog frowned but his father muttered, “She ain’t Scottish is all i know.” His father took another large swallow of his scotch. 

“Oh Boyd, shut yer trap.” Griselda gave her husband a dirty look. 

Boyd rolled his eyes and poured himself another drink. 

Griselda grinned. “You know what this means! We have a wedding to plan!!” 

* 

Marianne wore a black knee length skirt with a snug black and purple sweater, black hose and a pair of purple pumps, walking back and forth in front of her class, notes written across the black board as she lectured. She turned and quickly added something on the board, standing on the tips of her toes as she reached up high to write something in the available space on the board. 

Bog, dressed in black slacks, a dark blue dress shirt and a black jacket, stopped at the door and looked in through the glass set in the top of the door. He grinned, watching her as she lectured. She looked so beautiful he thought, so intelligent, so sexy. She had just finished writing and turned when she spotted Bog at the door. 

He grinned and waved with his finger. 

Marianne beamed. “Okay class, give me just a minute…” 

One of the young women sitting in the front leaned over to see Bog standing on the other side of the door. 

“Oh, who’s Mr. Blue Eyes?” 

Marianne had just begun to reach for the knob when she stopped and held out her hand with the engagement ring. “My fiance.” 

The class let out a collective gasp followed by cheers and shouts of congratulations. Marianne giggled and put her finger to her lips. “Shh!” 

She stepped outside, closing the door behind her and blushing. 

Bog grinned. “Hey.” 

“What are you doing here?” Marianne asked as she wrapped her arms around his waist. Bog wrapped his arms around her shoulders smiling down at her. 

“I came to warn you,” he said, his smile slipping a little. 

“Warn me?” Marianne asked with confusion. 

“My parents know we’re engaged,” Bog said softly. 

Marianne frowned. “So?” 

“My Mam knows…” Bog said ominously. 

Marianne still looked confused. 

Bog shook his head. “I don’t think you understand--my family knows.” 

Marianne stared at him as what Bog was saying slowly sank in.

**Author's Note:**

> Bidh gaol agam ort fad mo bheatha, thusa's gun duine eile means: I will love you my whole life, you and no other. I'm using a couple of different English to Scottish Gaelic translators so please bear with me.
> 
> Boyd is suppose to have a thick accent that I wasn't sure how to write...so just imagine it.
> 
> Scottish tablets:  
> a medium-hard, sugary confection from Scotland. Tablet is usually made from sugar, condensed milk, and butter, which is boiled to a soft-ball stage and allowed to crystallize. It is often flavoured with vanilla or whisky, and sometimes has nut pieces in it.
> 
> Neeps: Turnips


End file.
